To Tape to My Dorm Wall
My sister, know that only a prayer keeps us afloat for tomorrow: pulling down, pushing through the boarded window. I pack three suitcases for part two of the world: sleeping in, cheap wine, tax forms, sorority girls. I will miss my little brother calling adhan. Will I wake for fajr, a pink dawn? In a few months, I will have all Ramadhan, alone, to leash myself, to work my way through a plastic box of Palestine’s sweetest pitted dates. This summer, I’ll be packing my bags and preparing to...






