Onwards from Empress Market

To reach the probable location of

my displaced history,

You my friend need

to gurgle greetings in Pushtoo.

Here is my old church,

(the one from your dream)

picture of a wasteland

forever occupied by our histories.

And this rigorous journey

for you, my victim-sage

was not happenstance.

You have taken the

colors of our virgin

the father here in

empress market is disconcerted

he cries to the streets

"Mariam is gone!"

"Mariam is gone!"

they will- once placed around the sundry

of reminisces from your

white suburbuia

-let you cross the Khyber pass.

Leaving you to exorcize

your demons and ours,

ubiquitous in the brown air

of these mountains