Non dir di me..

Post N° 45

Not with your tribe's spears i write

for they are dull

but with my nails

words without walls

Sister ,

For you i have inscribed

Love-songs

weaving the sun's rays

to your latticed window .

To tell me you accept

The tribe's traditions

and prescriptions

is a concession

to being buried alive

The noble inch or two

of tatoo

over your skin

shall curve a bottomless

night into your flesh

It pains me

to see the tribe dwell

in you sprawling

in your college seat not unlike

your grandmother

who thought she was

a lottery ticket won

at home...

Fawziyya Abu Khalid