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;
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