My Name on His Tongue: Poems

how a tour guide in Petra reminded me of all I’ve lost (or never had to begin with)

3 how a tour guide in Petra reminded me of all I’ve lost (or never had to begin with) my name rests in the mouth of a man on horseback reclines on his wide pink tongue sails into the air when he rides along the wash his red kafiyyah and white jelabiyya flapping behind Ray Bans wrapped around his eyes protecting them from glare and dust my name does flips in the crisp air bounces a few times before settling down nestling between cheek and gum seeping through the wet skin of his mouth surging madly throughout his body squeezed inside a month in my husband’s promised-by-God-to-someone-else’s country were five days in my father’s never-promised-to-me land my children and I headed south in an air conditioned car nodded to the soft beats of a Kuwaiti singer as we passed untidy heaps of my injured memories from north to south it will never be mine except in the form of a tourist attraction I’ve made a life for myself elsewhere a settled urban family away from the familiar dark faces dark eyes away from the desert the extra heartbeats the fingers that hold on the mouths that say I belong here 4 my name lives in the mouth of a man on horseback you have been gone but you are still one of us the branch stays close to its roots you are a good mother a good woman, if I may be so bold I am sure your husband is a good man but I too would have treated you well if I had been given the opportunity I know you’ve already forgotten with the thousands of puffy pink foreigners you lead in and out of this ancient city —teeming with trinkets and Bedouin— with whom you exchange the same promises of exclusivity I will not forget for in those few minutes when you scrambled to make yourself a memory (and a few extra dinars) all that is not mine overwhelmed me took my breath away I can take you everywhere you will see this place like no one else has when I’m done I will take you on horseback 5 to the door of your hotel I’ve never done it before but for you I will do it for you bint al-Arab I will take the risk please let me too late there is no rewind no re-crossing borders oceans going back having it the way I wished for too many years ago so it will have to be like this: my name on your tongue between your lips keep it there shout it again and again as you ride along the wash let your voice rise above the trees so that my name will reach the blue above sneak into a cloud rain down so flecks and bits of me can stay to nourish my land let a drop of my name stay in your mouth 6 always taste all that you eat but please if you kiss a foreign woman hide it under your tongue or swallow it so that I am not accidentally taken away again you have already forgotten are leading other fools down the bright path spinning tales for their enjoyment I am with you have slipped inside your jelabiyya cling to your bare chest listen to your heart beat let it become my own I will stay here even as my life resumes its predictable decent pace thousands of miles away ...