I float on worry like
foam on riverskin
heart in my hands as I
roam the city’s quiet
indifferent sidewalks
playing at being
a stray cat circling
her bearings lost
               forgotten
like a margin in a book
or the slim shadow
cast by the gleam
on the spare table’s
lone glass
 
              I live on the lip, split
between slipping & holding
not knowing
is fragile ground
    & like stepping on clouds
neighbor to sky
far from earth
no root or
race or
color
no body nor
heart to hold me
void of that fullness
    that strong thread
to bind me to something specific
to earth me
give me weight
   yes
   yes
that strange thing
people call
belonging

        (16 April 2020)

Excerpted from Something Evergreen Called Life by Rania Mamoun. Copyright © 2023 Rania Mamoun. Translation copyright © 2023 Yasmine Seale. By arrangement with Action Books.