United Servants

My mother has wings
she hides in the crawlspace
they flutter in the dark
like primordial whispers

My father left blueprints
of the sky that made him
the clouds were his bones
eclipsed by horizon

My sister divines
ancestral trauma
it streams from her voice
like untamed centipedes

I watch them from afar
stretching tattered arms
I am too weak to hold
their tide's receding silence