How long did it take me to realize
home, is relative, with all the sense of the word
a relative's kiss on your tear-soaked cheeks
is just a reminder of how home was, is, constantly a softness
they told me softness is not weakness
yet I melt like butter on the sight of a pack of hummus
in a cold remote supermarket
in a fridge that labels the name incorrectly
everything becomes relative when you are alone
like anger that lands slowly in my heart
when I hear the language I use twisted,
in the name of flowering sister languages
like knowing that time changes
no matter how hard I close my fingers
it is all relative, this longing, the smell of old Za'tar
packed away, making me salute the homeland every time it whiffs.
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