What must occur to you At that last moment, before the shrapnel Rends your dreams to redness-- Allah calling your name unto Paradise ? The deafening cries of your children unborn? A plan ill-conceived? The sacrificed bits of stuff and promise Which should have knit together one day Within your womb, Now spun out. (Young woman tapes plastics to breast, Binding away in sacrificial modesty Her right to nurture.) Oppression occupation devotion have made the hate burn hot Within your veins Scarring to bone Blinding to certain pain Despising your own shrouded softness. This is woman Contorted To warrior By un-righteous rivalry, Condemned to willing nullity. No time No future No thought Of those she will take with her Only the tang of freedom strong on her tongue As she tastes last blood into darkness.