who are you?
asks the state
a beat
who? who are you?
asks the state
pen, paper, formular
entry documents, so far
was i expelled?
any customs?

condensating anxious breaths
on sticky glasses trapping cats
as the ink dries on fountain pens
the state reaches its tar stained hands
far into my bronchia
takes a hold, my cries afar

shaking, rattling, making space
for hemorrhage and nothing else
then releasing
fading pressure
oxygen, a sweet relief
my lungs now singed by
gaping wide cavities

why are you empty, deep inside?
asks the state
grabs the pen
with all its might
stabbing motion
eyes of fight

i don't know,
i say.

name?
no.
sex?
yes.
date of birth?
whatever fits.

oh look up, now!
says the lady at the office
we already gave you the right
yeah, sure
i say
there grows a sapling deep inside