Draft 1: “you bring out the Palestinian in me”

Almond eyes, quiet skies, Sam smith, coffee dripping, Fayrooz cups

You bring out the Palestinian in me
Warmth under a sun in which capitalism does not exist

Freedom in streets in which revolution is no long necessary

You bring out the revolutionary in me
We flirt all night until the athan goes off,

Like the imam who watches the forbidden

You bring out the hypocrite in me.
Sticky skin, balad, 100 degrees

I miss your cheap 10 shekel cologne.

Remember when you called me a dalo3a?

I’m all anger, straight faced, my mother’s demeanor

But i’ll always be your dalo3a

You bring out the soft in me
Dusty couches overlooking a rooftop in nablus,

You kiss me quickly and I push you

The jeeran are watching

But I smile

You bring out the khajal in me
Tears form as we sit in silence
We are two souls formed, only God can tear this apart

But I am not from here

You bring out the foreigner in me
Thoughts form, dabka at weddings, fixing your tie

Your mom doesn’t like me,

But she will cry

You bring out the hopeful in me
Olive skin, your almond eyes, in my mind

For eternity

But dust will collect on the da7la forever

And children will play and laugh and

Mothers will pressure their daughters

And fathers will build men out of rocks and revolutions,

But I am not from here

You bring out the Palestinian in me
Two languages, our mother tongue

We speak with our hearts what our tongues will never allow

There are tires burning in the street,

As they continues to burn in our minds when we are apart

We are one, and

I hope you never forget that

I will never forget your almond eyes

And the way your skin felt,

That night

You bring out the lover in me
As we part I hope you remember 

Booza in the park

Argeelah in that part of Sama Nablus,

Where boundaries no longer mattered

I hope you never forget that

You brought out the vulnerable in me

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