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Sonia Sulaiman (She/Her)
She is the streets of Ramallah after nightfall,
quiet and peaceful,
with short bursts of energy and sound.
I love the streets of Ramallah after nightfall.
She is the courtyard of Al-Aqsa,
tranquil and safe,
the feeling of home at first glance.
I love the courtyard of Al-Aqsa.
She is the rocks on the shores of Akka,
solid enough to lean on,
warm to the touch, fitting perfectly in my hands.
I love the rocks on the shores of Akka.
She is a fresh orange in Yaffa,
bright and tangy and sweet,
melting beautifully on my tongue.
I love the fresh oranges in Yaffa.
She is the markets in Nablus,
rich with culture,
the faint aroma of knafeh lingering near.
I love the markets in Nablus.
She is my homeland,
always leaving me with a sense of longing,
and an underlying tone of belonging.
I love my homeland.
In my homeland,
she and I are both free.
We wander the streets of Palestine,
and I show her what she is to me.
I feed her the oranges that are just like her tone,
and let my fingers linger on her smooth and warm lips,
before showing her the rocks that fit like she does.
I walk her through the markets that smell like her breath,
and the courtyard that feels like being in her embrace,
and listen to her laugh on the streets of my hometown.
She is my homeland,
She makes me feel free.
She pulls me away from dim reality.
I love my homeland.