First Clove the smell of garlic is the beginning of everything and in every beginning is a scent of the end I am seeking my beginnings in the soil of... read more →
Warriors cannot stop contemplating exile although they want only to sit Hand caressing cheek dry eyes closed now because who wants to see What happened since pottery was buried future... read more →
the language I come from has no mother so what if I don’t have a mother tongue that rolls off my lips Arabic Hebrew English never quite reaching my mouth... read more →