If I Must Die
If I must die
you must live
to tell my story
to sell my things
to buy a piece of cloth and some strings,
(make it white with a long tail) so that a child, somewhere in Gaza
while looking heaven in the eye
awaiting his dad who left in a blaze—
and bid no one farewell
not even to his flesh,
not even to himself—
sees the kite, my kite you made, flying up above
and thinks for a moment an angel is there
bringing back love
If I must die
let it bring hope
let it be a tale
