Response to Warsan Shire’s “Snow”

we die awake

my father was almost different
and that’s the thing with parents
one may be, the other may not
but what we drink in water
becomes blood
a road opened on my father’s face
every time he smiled
and it closed when my mother smiled
i couldn’t speak his language
but my mother called it love
and she undressed her heart
every time he drew blood
her face was his favourite wound
he said what we drink is water
if it comes out, it’s blood
and then i learned
how water becomes blood
and blood becomes love
and love kills us

leonell