our voices
paint the living picture
caught between New York and Paris
Paris and Palestine
hidden within autumn's prayer for existence
I have nothing left to give
to the thought of you
still shone within my gaze
as it falls heavy upon the Champs Elessye, with...
our hands
reaching toward each other
tires ignite underneath the rocket's burn
and fingers pull tight to trigger's
spilling bullets into children
with their mothers' bodies rushing
in the tears' doree, as...
our bodies
once flush in the romance of summer
now are buried rithing beneath
the war of sand and clay, intefadeh,
freedom fighters cannot define poverty
as blood pours red upon...
our scream
too late, reaching only a world beyond this one
a reverberating cry heard only by...
our eyes
that unite us
wandering for promised land
and love once caged within the waves' short life
upon the Dead Sea's shore
yet
my eyes
look out to the Arc de Triumph,
as the sun loses its battle to reign,
seeing your deadening silence ...
our muted plea...alive... blackening...
woven within the cold wind of night ...