Shadi Eskandani

every day since,
stunted (skype) conversations
disrupted (internet) connections
a cadence of condolences
mass devastation
across miles of broken earth
the gutting sounds of a mother’s grief
a ravaging
a vicious distance offering
no relief.
my home is on fire.

every day since,
there’s been a typhoon inside me
no sleep here only a
flooding of words
piecing me together as
i welcome this deprivation
of rest to keep the ghosts at bay.
so i write and write yet
they come
one after the next.
i let them in. i keep them safe.

tonight, i walk barefoot in the streets
holding my head in my hands –

my home is covered in ashes
and every day since,
i’ve been waiting for the simorgh to rise.