Friday, April 29, 2016

Aleppo is burning.

And the cool glasses of water waiting on the nightstand

And childrens’ kisses covering my face and hands
And sunflower seed husks scattered on rooftops as homage to a warm sleepless night of laughter and conversation
And bunches of raw green pistachios still hidden in rose colored petals
And wet lips and chins ungracefully betraying recently devoured succulent green figs
And bright green domes of saints punctuating the ancient cityscape
And unmatched love for the unrefined stranger
And all the ghosts haunting my memory

Cannot cleanse the vision of blood
And defuse the bombs
and quench the fires
Burning Aleppo.