[Political] Dialogue

There were two worlds then, the one we lived in and the one she invented, where my aunt remarried and nobody ever went to America

[Political] Dialogue

On the phone, she would ask about my son,
if he was eating solids yet. There were two
worlds then, the one we lived in and the one
she invented, where my aunt remarried and
nobody ever went to America and we visited
her every Sunday. We visited her every two
years. She’d ask if I’d ever visit Palestine
again. I never brought her back any soil, but
I told her about Haifa, the man I met at the
bus station, a stranger until he spoke Arabic,
calling me sister and daughter, I told her
how he skipped work and drove me past the
gardens to the highest point and we waved
to Beirut. I waved to her, and later she said
she was waving back. Never mind her
balcony faced the wrong direction. Never
mind the sea was a terrible blue. Never mind
there never was a son. I still have her voice.
She still calls when I’m not expecting. Keef
ibnik, she says. What could I say back? He’s
good, I tell her. He’s crawling. Mashallah,
mashallah. We praise how much he’s grown.