THE FOREWORD NEXT TIME

Your veins are drying thunder,

lining your thighs red as the 

qibla rattles in warning

for you to pray.

There is a silence 

in your body

in the shape of a baby

pulled out of the ruins 

between then and now 

with her roots etched 

in a family tree 

stained eyes flooded black

oil beneath the ark

blood Arabic, African.

The foreword next time 

will begin with the cry 

of a soaring crow, 

a bright balding sky

teased with the frills 

of dying palm trees.

The sound of heaven 

rumbles softly with blood

under your neck, 

warming your ears

your feet pressed into the sand.

It is here where your voice begins.

It is here where it will end.

Mariam Hassan is a writer and filmmaker whose poetry has been published in the Shallow Tales Review and 20.35 Africa. Her essay, At Maghrib The Crows Fly Home, received an honorable mention in Afrocritik's 50 Notable Essays from Africa 2024. She is currently studying journalism in Kibaha Pwani, Tanzania.