Artist: Obay Kareem, Flyers for Falastin

He and she spoke by phone
the night before their wedding
certain their heartbeats
could end the war,
the endless bombardment, the screams.

Then Gaza would be
as they remembered it
when they fell in love,
when they were one soul in two bodies,
one in the north, one in the south.

On that last night he told her:
O my lady, O my bride,
tomorrow Ya ‘aroosati
we will be in the same room.
O my lady, O my bride.

Then as darkness fell
he closed his eyes
so he could see her image
in her white wedding dress.
He was so happy.

But that night, the warplanes were moving
among the shining stars,
orange and red lights
blinking on and off 
before the missiles dropped.

In the morning,
her mobile called him.
He answered: “Good morning, habibti!”
Silence.
“Are you shy?”

Silence.
 “Why are you crying?”
Her friend answered:
 “Your bride is ready to go to heaven.
Come, bury her.”