They spark in the skies

It has been weeks of Gaza bombing.

"Thousands of tails fell with fire from the sky. Thousands lost their lives-- now their tales."

The smoke billows from the back of the fence: a tall wall separating the dream world and the world outside. 

The gym, inside, is filled with ash, a mountain of dust from the rubble�" sometimes, the debris fall on the court effacing what is left of its shadow.

She manages to escape, slither away from the collapse. Her skin has codes; the scales mirror what comes�"intentionally or not�"

a reptile, sensing not the soil but its own cold, changing domecile, stripping itself of cover�" naked before the rain;

the rain, blurry, is left with the smoke. a puddle is left on the corner, reflecting buildings taller than the wall servicing not, the world it created 

but what created her, outside�" looking out, everytime lightning surfaces from the bun of the roof, 

What could be waiting beyond the crown of the rat hole? A rampart or a thatched roof riddled with dismay? 

“The dead lizard is trapped behind the walls;
electrocuted, it carried with it a foul smell.”