Mustafa - Air Forces
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Returning Minor
Baba still reaches me in my sleep
I still hear his stories of war like shrapnel to armed fantasy
my dreams never survive
each nylon string like barbed wire
each melody a cry he never learned to escape
“why are you trying to make me return?” he asks
“where are you taking my blood?”
I retrace our lineage of shared bullets
from the one that claimed my friend
to the one that claimed his
I question it’s intention but lead won’t speak
I archive my memory
“For Allahs sake, why do you feel the need to return?” Baba pleads
but I can’t return where I was never seen
where cousins await trial beneath ground
where mother still wakes with a sharp pain of longing for those she knows are destined to leave
I still remember nights with her face pressed close to mine,
my loose breath on her cheek a reminder I’m alive
I still pretend to sleep
I still perform with her memory
on a stage in a dream
or a stage that feels like a dream
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