For Aciek Arok Deng
I leave the camp, unable to breathe,
me Freud girl, after her interior,
she Lost Girl, after my purse,
dark as eggplant,
floating, open, defying the gravity
I was told keeps pain in place
maybe trauma doesn’t harden,
packed, tight as sediment at the bottom of her psyche,
dry and cracked as the desert she crossed,
maybe memory doesn’t stalk her
with its bulging eyes.
Once inside the body
does war move up or down,
maybe the body pisses it out,
maybe it dissipates, like sweat and fog
under the heat of a colonial God,
and in America, maybe it flavors dull muzungu lives,
each refugee a bouillon cube of horror.
Maybe war can’t be soaked up
by humans alone,
the way the rains in Sudan
move across the land,
drenching the ground, animals, camps, sky,
no end to its roaming
until further out, among the planets,
a stubborn galaxy finally mops it up,
and it sits, hushed,
and below, the humans in the north
with their penchant for denial,
naming it aurora borealis.
*Muzungu means white person
We will never sell, rent or share your personal information with a 3rd party, especially your email addresses and phone numbers, unless required by law. Never ever! Because we hate spam just as much as you do.
How do we use the information you provide?
Save Darfur uses the information we collect from you in an effort to engage you as an online activist. We will use your email address to send you periodic updates, actions you can take and for contributions. An option to unsubscribe will be in every email we send. While we won't get tired of watching Bashir, we respect your right to take a break.
Information on children’s privacy.
We believe every precaution must be taken to protect children online. Save Darfur does not knowingly ask children 13 and under for any information. Visitors who are 13 or under should ask a parent or legal guardian for assistance when using Save Darfur and should not submit any personally identifiable information.
Links to other web sites.