useless

  There are times I think of mother with me, no more words to speak, just the holding. Folding into her heart, anything Precious, near though those pieces may be useless now: The pebbles under the sand, like old currency Or the rusty chain links creating palpable places passed over by a bird overhead beating…

Letter to Arij, excerpt

Arij, Is Palestine still in your grips are you managing to keep a hold as it loosening from your fingertips Has your mind been affected by sleep of the hours you stay awake to unfold a package, never knowing what to expect one you’d rather not bother to even inspect, as sometimes oil drips from…