Remembering

I was born there,

Near a lingering dream,

When my mother, alone with her passion,

(I’m alone still, an orphan)

Arranged her dreams in boxes called “us"

And then returned the next morning to

Press her eyes to shed kohl

While she slept, we lay as naked as a freshly washed tunic

Inhaling alienation as we dried

Faleeha Hassan
Translated by William M. Hutchins
07 17 16