Gaza

Their faces rise only after slaughter
as your gaunt faces rose accusingly
in the windows of German officers
still-drunk with power, their wives
haunted by the skins of the departed
who shall never depart.

Their faces haunt behind your curtains
drawn inside, further, further,
and you call them terrorists
but what terrifies are not the rockets,
but the same gaunt faces,
that incessant mirror-image insanely
proclaiming they are human,
Human, they are you.

by
Omyma C. Hu