published
You were born in sulphur and phosphorous
under flickering fluorescent torchlight
You were screaming, but I couldn't hear you over
the shrieking mothers, sirens, and missiles
the crumbling buildings, spirits, and lives
the deafening roar of destruction
the background noise of loss
Your Ammi is dead from pain and infection and dread.
Her eyes were the purest darkness,
but nothing sterile lasts in a theater of war.
She held you in as long as she could…
the only way she could think of to protect you
There is no one left to give you a name
but we can worry about that if you make it to morning