In her face her whole country was blown apart a ceramic pot dropped and trampled each piece carefully picked up and hidden in her face was a whole painfully glued together in her determined amber eyes clear with hard truth speak it:                 The murder of your father & mother husband-to-be who will be your lover now? who will cry your skin's                 spring honey flowing through hills of drought under the pale lunar cycle of your cheeks                 your lips wet with shock your plea                 wails over a flooding lake the shape of your skeleton tall under the burqa she walks onstage her soul a siren's red swivel the roots of a tree gripping below granite                 a nervous system of tears                                delicate, blue                                               burqa used to be her favorite color                 blue the color of truth                 blue the color of sky                 smiling in mountain streams                 blue the color of God                 blue-violet of dusk used to be her favorite hour heaven before our beginning Venus' diamond blur yearning with lovers                 under the trees                 under the burqa men she cannot see beat her                 with stones                 for showing one arm her whole life:                 her husband kissing with her                 in their kitchen to be again her cherished moment                 returning together from work                 in the University, the market, the hospital, the shop                 hugging her children                 cooking smells of lamb and eggplant deep blue hour of prayer call                 of every day acts made holy                 in the freedom of her home.