I have never been to Beirut.
But Beirut is a city
Everyone wants to visit.
I dream of it.
Two of my friends visited.
They sang of her beauty,
her rich mix of cultures and religions.
My mother visited
when she was young,
and tells me Beirut
looks like the north of Palestine,
making me want to see it all the more.

But now the images I see on TV
remind me too much of Gaza.
Goosebumps.
Flashback:
Explosions, unexpected;
buildings in rubble;
people dazed, bloodied, crying, lost.
Once again, I taste the dust
from the missile that hit my neighbor’s house
in my mouth, ears and nose.
The grating voice of breaking glass.

I wipe away salty tears,
close my eyes.
make a silent wish
for all the injured capitals,
from Jerusalem to Beirut,
Sanaa to Baghdad:
I hope for them to
breathe freely again,
with no corruption or occupation.

Yet I know some scars
can't be healed.