Zoulfa Katouh

I focus on the hope rather than counting my losses

I have love in my heart because of you.

Do all six-year-olds know what death is? Or is it only children of war?

The way he says my name, pronouncing each vowel and consonant, even now makes me feel like flowers are growing in my veins.

“That’s a flame angelfish,” Kenan points out. “I thought she’d have a friend the color of flames. Could light the way when it gets dark.”

Bury me before I bury you,” he whispers in prayer.

Know that even in death, you’re my life.”

Death is an excellent teacher.

Or maybe you want to be arrested. Taken to where your Baba and Hamza are.

How childish my worries were back then. How innocent were our dreams.