We slept on cool,
gently breezed rooftops
under clear soaring skies.
Stars so high,
they stooped
to kiss
the gentle hands of God.
We lay enveloped in white sheets,
as pure as the fronds
of newborn date palms
bleached
under the Baghdad sun
as the day dragged on.
At night, covered in crystal
net tents,
twisting the fiercest of
gnats' ambitions.
Our dreams as pure
as Jesus's peace
on earth.
Little did we know...
that soon the stars
would be waging wars
against...
our dreams,
against our sleep,
against our peace...
