by Hibah Shabkhez
Filled with love for its ruthless predatorAnd for its shrinking prey alike, our kindFlees with panicked disdain its own mirror,Glass or brother; remains carefully blindTo serpent-roses in swidden heartlandsPlanted by the grudging acid-roped rainsThat yield lesser lightenings than the sandsOf yore drew with cracking clay-pot thirst-stains.
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