The bombs don't go easy on the climate. 

The weather is too darn hot today. 

And I wonder what burns my eyes more, 

the sweat or the scenes of genocide 

from Gaza. 

At this moment, I can't stop thinking of myself and my friends 

as sheep dragged to their slaughter, the korban of Eid. 

But God's name this time is Yahweh.

My name is Amalekite.

Amalekite—fashionable name for a korban. 

You know I have never seen Gaza from a boat in

 the middle of the Mediterranean.

And I am not daring enough to swallow my saliva and 

ask you how my house looks from a far. 

I can't even ask: Did you see my house?

I wish I could be with you.

I wonder how humanity can be carried in a boat? 

Isn't it supposed to be heavier, bigger? 

I wanted to thank you for carrying humanity in a boat. 

But as a recognized human animal,

I am not sure what humanity is. 

I keep asking about my other half:

What is human? 

Yours sincerely, 

The human animal, Basman

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