On the Thirtieth Friday We Consider Plurals by Lena Khalaf Tuffaha

On the Thirtieth Friday We Consider Plurals

 

At the border, a flock of journalists.

A sacrifice of tires burned behind us.

Beneath the picnic tents, a funeral of families.

What else will we become in Gaza if we gather,

if we carry our voices to the razored edge?

We were met by a gallop of prayers,

clamoring recitatives puncturing the shroud

of humid air. We were met by a delirium

 

of greetings, peace-be-upon-us surreal

between embraces, the horizon locked

and loaded. What is upon us

will require mercy. Let the plural be

a return of us. A carnage of blessings—

bodies freed from broken promises,

from the incumbrances of waiting.