Dafn

by Raie H. Thira

I.

With a swift exhale,
I pushed out the relief,
anxiety,
and fear.

Untouched words
expelled from my body
in a jumbled mess of jargon.

Thoughts mimicked
piled-up cars
on narrow and crowded
sidewalks of Beirut’s inner cities,

As her stern face
Turned soft
With the peace and comfort
of a warm Mediterranean breeze
on an even warmer summer’s day.

II.

Why do I feel like I lost someone?

I’m still here
I’m still me.
Yet, I grieved,

while the relief,
anxiety,
and fear,
vanished into thin air––
I grieved.

III.

Standing still
dressed in the night
as tall strangers

with pungent perfumes
and white veils,

pucker up
––three times.

“Allah Yerhama,” they say,
god have mercy on her.

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This work appears in Khabar Keslan Issue 0. MEDIUM.