April 15, 2019
By Siham Karami
Who crowned the heads of conquerors with leaves?
You slam the door. I’m rolling up my sleeves.
We read each other’s eyes and almost drown
like gypsies rendered speechless by the leaves.
Then winter strips us down to skeletons:
static, silence, sparks are all it leaves.
December 25, 2018
The young earth hardened, heated, split, then froze,
but still could not disorient the rose.
We kept the emails, pictures, cards in files;
But where, how, could we document a rose?
Sleepless without you, nights etched in glass,
I see the world through temperamental rose...
October 29, 2018
Our night flight lands in Cairo, Queen of Sand,
whose shutters swallow city lights like quicksand.
Your sister serves us gritty sandwiches
of bread— to meet weight quotas— baked with sand.
We squander hours flagging speeding taxis.
I, the wilting comma. You, the amper...
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