Those who grew up in greyness
Are marked by vivid dreams, by a mysterious virus.
Branded since youth – these birthmarks
Can’t be erased by ethnic cleansing.
You can’t pave the sky with tiles,
You can’t paint everyone in a bright palette.
Heresy can’t be swept away, no matter how hard you try,
And otherness can’t be mown down – choke on it if you try.