5.11.13
Fatme Takes Beauty Away
The moment she got news of her release,
we all began to weep:
not for her but for ourselves.
No more mornings with her
wrung out kohl colored eyes,
her two beautiful dresses
one from the Iraq
that she slung on before
her cold two-gallon shower
and one for after.
Somehow she managed
to change them from moment
to moment, or maybe
it was her face
that changed
between one tragic
thought and another,
as a little boy
floats left and right
in a rear view
on his old bike,
the kind with a bell,
that earmarks a vision
you hope does not end
because parts of your self
vanish into these scraps,
odds and ends.
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