Sunday, September 18, 2016


Remember to pack along the following:

-Freshly-baked Taboun, smelling like babies
-kisses on both cheeks, a turning of heads
- Merenge on the rooftops of old buildings, the old bites the new foreign
-men who greet men, women who greet women, neither to greet one another
- A glass of Sangarias with fresh apples
- Different directions to prayer, God has decent ears
- my father acting out as an alarm clock, beeping, each time with a softer desperation for my wakening
- the flowers that open only at night, soaking the sunlight for fragrance
- Chai-Na'na', mint-tea, made with one spoon of sugar to keep to healthy eating
- the kid who died in an accident, the kid who was killed, the consolations that painted the town with their faces, like children who were lost but earth found them
- a pinch on my mother's slate cheeks, to make possible impossibilities
- a woman who asks when will I get married, for the fear of continuity grows
- your beard tickling my forehead in the summer, a kiss is a kiss

let's see, have I forgotten to bring anything else in my continental suitcase?

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