In the works

Reflections on speaking with a friend about living in Lebanon, in Syrian occupied Lebanon, through her youth. On feeling ridiculously uninformed. On being reminded that I am a poet and have a gift for words. Here is a first draft. Emotion draft.

(draft)

On Losing Lebanon

gravity compels me to lie down
depressed by apathy
foam impresses my slack body

No, I am not dead
nor am I alive

in my fridge the pears are rotting
a cold turn of skin
a shrinking of a softness or a feeling of a shrinking of a softness
a reduction rather
the demands of its nature

I do not eat the pears because I am not hungry or I do not eat the pears because I do not have to

I am naked in front of the mirror
and cannot conceive of your gentle skin
proved thicker than mine through Phoenician time

we are only the same when horizontal
or we are only horizontal