I Don’t Understand the Lyrics, but I know How to Sing It — Tori Dominski

You said my name on the banks of the Nile,

walking home.




In April you told me what you had done.

Men carry heavy things.

I tried to keep up, holding what I could.




On my birthday I wrote to you

and put the letter in a mailbox by the sea.




A fire built in Cairo’s slums does not choose

whom it warms.




You text me late at night, outside Donetsk.

I smile.


We toss dirt into an empty grave.