Who put my son Youssef on fire?
He must have a heart darker than oil
My daughter’s doll is a skull in Darfur
A woman half buried in the dirt
Showered with dark ages stones
The arm of a child
Smashed under the truck of righteousness
For stealing a loaf of bread
I can’t stop these images
Spinning and spinning around my head
In the calmness of my lonely cave
I know if I step out of my circle
Thousands of debris penetrates into my flesh
But a voice in my head repeats
Take the step
Take the step
