You Came into My Dream

by Mosab Abu Toha

You Came into My Dream
a letter to my brother Hudayfah (2000-2016)

All I know is that you came. I paid no attention to your clothing,
whether you were holding something in your hand. A letter from
There?
Are your hands still small? Could they carry a heavy letter written
by Fate? Fate, whose sharp fingernails scratch open my back’s skin
every time it misspells my name.

I knew I was dreaming. But why haven’t I even conversed with
you? Maybe ask if you saw Grandfather up There? Maybe he is
still stuck and planted in Yaffa somewhere, tending an aging
orange tree?
What kept my mouth from opening? (Silence makes my mouth
sour) Was I put inside a glass medicine bottle on which They
wrote not “Keep out of reach of children,” but “Keep silent in
and out.”
who/what are They?

Your sight was fresh and sharp I felt you could see through me,
onto my bleeding past. I am crying, but my tears are cold. My
tears are falling on my feet, they burn the tiny, dark hairs on my
toes. My feet are bare. I have been walking for a long time, and
the road is strewn with fear.