Making Up with Sudan

Dana Mirghani

Pain travels through family
until someone is ready to feel,
and I’ve been feeling it my whole life.

A home I never truly left,
I feel abandoned by.
A religion I dissected and resurrected
til I no longer recognize it.

I believe in Spinoza’s god
because I am loyal to myself

I broke free.

I left home with an ache in my heart,
the kind you feel
when you break up with your first love.

I light one in remembrance.

Clouds of smoke tell me
it is better shared with a friend
who shares my native tongue.

Some things you can never escape,
nor can they escape you.

I spend my days wondering if
we can still make up.

Maybe I’d be able to reconnect with old friends.

Maybe I’d be suitable in the eyes of another Arab.

Maybe I’d be able to face my father wholeheartedly.