I show up at the farm,

my home in Morocco for the next 3 weeks.

 

Terrified.

 

In the moment that I met her,

she looked like a boy.

But she had a girl’s name.

 

And there was a dog there.

Lucky, but with an Arab accent,

and he looked at me saying,

“I’m hungry.”

 

I am wearing a necklace,

a hand that protects me from the evil eye.

I squeeze it to expand the bubble of my world.

 

“I’m gay,” she told me,  

“because no man is a good enough man”.

I understand.

I’ve been in those shoes, where words of money or trade break you down.

Demolishing everything you have built yourself to be.

Where hands fly and tongues try,

and dicks come out while you are hiking.

 

She looks into my eyes,

hers are vibrant green and they tell me

It’s okay, it’s not your fault.  

 

And Lucky and I, we were outside on the ground.

Watching as they pulled the skin off the rabbit for dinner.

And he said to me,

“I’m hungry.”

And I told him back,

“It’s okay. You can wait. I love you”

He leaned against me.

 

I am standing.

My necklace pressed hard against my chest.

The horizon is moving.

I’m sinking into the ground and up into the sky.

I am so small, the world is so big.

I feel love.

 

The short time passed,

shorter and shorter.

She left the room to sleep away the pain.

I left the room in tears.

I look at the dog, he looks at me and says, “I’m hungry”.

I say, “I know, you’ll get food tonight….”

I need a hug.

He comes up, puts his head on my shoulder.

Collapsing in my lap, he says,

“It’s gonna be okay.”

 

I’m working in the fields of the farm.

Pounding the dirt, trying to exhaust myself so I don’t feel what’s coming.  

Goodbye.

Words unsaid hanging in the air, inverting my heart

And pulling.

And the necklace pulls me, and the dog runs up.

And she leaves.

 

Empty.

Heartbroken.

I leave tomorrow.

Goodbye Lucky.

Goodbye farm.

Goodbye sanctuary.

 

Messages, facebook.

Holding the strings.

Enough for me to know I haven’t lost her

I have someone.

Comfortable.

Accepting.

Knowing.

 

She sends pictures.

We both understand.

 

I get ready for my flight.

Am I leaving home?

Or going?

I don’t know anymore.

Just the pulling apart of my chest.

And the bitterness in the back of my eyes.

 

But the necklace.

 

“Stand up,” it says.

Feel the ground.

Feel the sky.

“I am so small,” I say.

The necklace says nothing,

because it’s true.

 

I look to the horizon,

feel everything, and then,

peace.

 

Breath out.

 

I am leaving home.

I am going home.

I am so small.

 

Breath in.

 

I look to the horizon,

And the sky line says,

“Have hope”.