They killed the photographer
and they killed the artist,
the genocidaires killed them,
the hands that captured
and illustrated the slaughter
and the joys and defiance
among the ruins
are broken and covered
in shrouds.
Ismail al-Hattab is dead,
his last photograph taken.
Frans al-Salmi is dead,
her last image painted.
And they killed thirty-one others
or forty (the numbers
change so often now
as the wounded die)
with the photographer and the artist,
and the yard is full of shrouded bodies,
the yard is full of stolen lives
and the land is full of hasty graves.
30.06.2025
#Verse #Poem #Poems #Poetry
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