She asks me why I don’t write in Arabic.
“You’re Arab, no?”
“Eh, mbala … but …” I try, more question than statement.
“I am … but …” Always a disclaimer.
What I want to say,
“What does it mean to exist in in-betweens? Shame, self-doubt, siesta?”
So shukran, Zeina, for awakening the languages inside me. I am learning.
And like most things in hijra, this is ongoing.
These stories are living,
and no one can occupy that.
To rebuilding languages, and rebuilding the cities inside us.
bil 3arabi: 6 poems by Sara Saleh
By Sara Saleh | 5 December 2019