"When Time crawled to reach 8:30 AM on Sunday, a cascade of relief, joy and hope washed over us. Fifteen months of horror now come to an end, at least for six weeks. And yet, as cry after cry erupts around us, echoing “Allahu Akbar!” into the air, I can't shake the inky heaviness that lingers in my heart when I see what's happened to us..."
I gaze at the ellipsis at the end of my friend's X post. It speaks of falling into the spaces, untold and foreign, and strikes me with its longing.
each bombed-out house:
an album with no photos
but with people
living, wounded and dead
pressed between its pages
Before I log out, another bit of viral Gaza news appears on my X feed: "At least four Palestinians were allegedly shot dead by the Israeli snipers since the ceasefire went into effect." The embedded video shows a man trying to drag a boy’s lifeless body before he too is shot.
anything new
under Gaza's smeared sun?
smoky rubble
beyond smoky rubble, and yet
again smoky rubble
Ribbons, 21:1, 2025
