I miss Mahmoud pure confidence
his uneven eyes
one awake
one sleepy one praying
the other preying it rained
bullets bodies dropped on ground
he screamed his scream
shook conference rooms loaded agendas
thinking tanks the guns cried
the dead we pillowed bricks
in the middle of highway time
a stretchable shirt that day
tomorrow seemed so far
unreachable all we had was us
from bricks to van to mosque
to the apartment we sat speechless in
that vacuum that nothing
how moments folded neatly
settled in cabinet it must be my mother
folding me with her prayers