Here is the height of my love.
It could kiss the clouds with fire
invade every blue mile,
and I will show them.

When I strap the damage to my waist
with slow attention
I think justice, honour.
Holy words in my head

roll pebbles round my tongue,
click against my teeth;
my body
a smoky flag unfurling.

I have watched women on their knees
throw dust on their headscarves,
punching their breasts.
I can achieve that grief for others.

When I walk at last among them
gently jostling shoulders,
see their eyes and how they look at me,
hear that woman singing to her child
I will make their language wail