The shore greets impatiently,
peeved it has taken so long.
فرقتك مرة
Forgive me,
I whimper. It is true: I
cowered before the coldness
of rifles, surrendered to
the cruel apathy of their
bureaucracy. Here, at last,
I look upon a sky free
of intrusive steel and glass.
Boys with guttural names run
around and I do not watch
over them. Instead, I cup
salt water and drench the ache
off my face. After وضوء
we lay our shirts on the soft
ground, bow as the sun sets.
تكبير
At night, I light ولعة after ولعة
for Darwish and Kanafani.
We do not sing because the
waves make our mouths futile. We
smoke till dawn and no one coughs.
After فجر we walk, arms inter-
locked, straight towards an open
horizon. No idiot tries
to stop us.