leaves and leaving call october home
her daughter releases wood
smoke from her skin
...
poem supposed to be about
one minute and the lives of three women in it
writing it and up
...
it is written
the act of writing is
holy words are
sacred and your breath
...
I will not
dance to your war
drum. I will
not lend my soul nor
my bones to your war
...
palestine's daughter
love making can be as dangerous
as curfews broken
guerillas hidden
...
The way loss seeps
into neck hollows
and curls at temples
...