Our Skins (a poem by Yahya Ashour)

[Ricardo Wyatt]

I could tear out my mind

whenever I recall 

the too many times I dared 

against despair,

under the relentless buzzing of drones 

that never shut up,

near the waves of the sea

that never cease to weap

.

I dared my people,

and didn't believe any

of the messages 

coming from the universe 

barking in my chest.

I dared despair with a fragment of hope,

collected memoirs and memories 

I no longer remember. 

I found comfort in a bed and pillow

pressed against a wall

in a room I have have long imagined it

the most captivating cell

I bathed in a cold, 

murky,  scarce water, 

dried off with darkness 

and slept in between besieged H6i 569y56

Wishing for an end to the more than 75 year long brutal occupation of Palestine.