I write my country love letters but I don’t think she receives them
I’m told America ignores them;
doesn’t want them,
doesn’t want me
She’s just shy; afraid of reactions to our affair.
They tell her
I’m a daughter of the enemy; I will hurt her
and betray her love
Daggers of antipathy and mistrust fly from their eyes and stab me;
my blood stains her like red punch on white carpet
and bruises complete my red, white, and blue.
I write my country love letters,
But I’m told to write apologies instead
the taste of postage stamps
lives on my tongue
and ink stained hands
wait for they day when they can hold
apology letters in red, white, and blue.
by Rawda Fawaz