Flumes Volume 2: Issue 1, Summer 2017 - Page 17

i hear him the boy

God will avenge us from this oppressor

don't cry, it's okay, don't cry, it's okay

i want to tuck him into my belly

i am not his mother yet i wish

to hold him

the way he holds his dead baby brother in his arms

the only piece of home he has in the dust

the children the children the children

i cannot sleep

without seeing the faces of Syrian children

i can see them in the floating stars

that form from closing your eyes too tight

i want to tuck them all into me

i want them to set their humble feet on this land.

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