The Moon

I rushed to meet the full moon

As I could finally see her face

A month of waiting could not be replaced

And as the moon turn around I knew

The rock looked much like you

My imaginary childhood friend

You survived this long

You were with me till the end

I wondered how your face was never changed

From Iraq to America

And somehow it did not feel strange

To befriend the moon

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Walking Desert

I never thought it a desert

Nor did I ever judge the sands

I thought it a home

That I could hold in the palm of my hands

Sticking to my curly hair

And the shoes I wear

I became a walking desert

Completely unaware

Of the sands of my people

Clinging to my form

I wore as proudly as a soldier

Wearing his uniform