Turquoise forest.

I wait for you sunrise to sunset, thinking about you on the Gaza Strip. If you are safe, if you still feel loved, or, has that all escaped from you by now.

Will you still be able to love when you come home next, when we meet next at a secluded, scheduled spot. Deep inside you are with me, in a turquoise forest we saved as a place for you to call out “mami”. We will walk back out into a peek of light, your grip so tight, holding hands, but also each others’ hearts. You will leave me now wanting in a space that hovers between pain and my fate, from now on, and to the end.

I will let you go, even though my heart leaves from me to you, I’m happy to give to you. So you can carry it with you, across with you, to where you go, simply because you’ll need it more. Give it back. I know you will, my bright sun, when you return from an endless, dark war. From losses precious on each divide, it’s your hardest pain to carry inside. Until, think about everything beautiful, safe, soft and warm. I’ll be here, soldier, awaiting you with openness, and its fate, with me in your arms.

Excerpt from
Between Jerusalem and Mexico, a taboo love.