Birth of Days

Birth of Days

Laala Kashef Algahta

He pushed her away,
hid his eyes, choked on being alone.

Her heart broke trying
to fall in step with his.
His arm shook, a nervous tick,
his watch ticked, his throat dry.
He didn't know Joy didn't come
painted on the side of the box.

She pinned the earring
he gave her to her dress.
Forgot everything but
the dove shaped mark
on his shoulder.
He kept running closer,
sprinting away.

Her lips part to scream anger
but they form a soft kiss instead
(on a stranger's face, his hands,
his groin), she screams
herself hoarse.

She pulls him closer,
his soft green tee
between her legs.