translated from the Arabic by Sara Elkamel
Every time sadness returns to me, I recall the ants.
Weeks after you left, ants ravaged my bed. They wandered across the clean sheets; stung me mercilessly whenever I lay down to rest. Every time sadness returns, I tell myself it is best you are not here; it is best we are no longer here, because your smooth skin—the skin I love—would never withstand their mindless stings.
I experimented with home remedies—I rubbed the bedposts with vinegar; I prepared a mixture of water, peppermint oil and tea-tree oil; and I made sure the sheets were spotless—all in vain. The ants were hell-bent on ruining my mood and tirelessly interrupting my sleep.
A friend of mine suggests it is sweat that draws them. Only—I do not sweat without you. They advised me to use chemicals without mercy; claimed antihistamines were particularly effective. Mix it with water and vinegar, spray it everywhere, and the ants will be gone.
But I dragged my feet. Or honestly, I wondered why I would play these tricks when you would not come back, would not taste their stinging and leave me with my itching guilt. So why try all these tricks when I am alone here, without you? On particularly harsh mornings I started thinking the stings were essential; they remind me that you are gone. I started thinking the ants are not necessarily my enemies—in fact, they could be my only companions as I rid myself of you—and that the sweat that draws them to me, the sweat I am not used to, is how I nightly shed you from my body and spirit—so our love does not go to waste; instead, it becomes a sumptuous feast for my unruly friends.
Our love, my darling, is a love that feeds the ants.
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Farah Barqawi is a Palestinian writer, poet, and performer. Her work has been featured in prominent Arabic online platforms such as Mada Masr, Al-Jumhuriya, and Jeem, and in multiple anthologies, the latest being We Wrote in Symbols by Saqi Books (UK). In 2019, she produced and hosted a season of the Arabic podcast Eib (Shame). In 2018-2019, she toured with her first solo performance, “Baba, Come to Me.” Farah is an M.F.A. candidate in nonfiction at New York University and lives between New York and Berlin.
Sara Elkamel is a poet and journalist living between Cairo and NYC. She holds an M.A. in arts journalism from Columbia University and an M.F.A. in poetry from New York University. Her poems have appeared in The Yale Review, MQR, Four Way Review, The Cincinnati Review, The Adroit Journal, Poet Lore, Poetry London, Best New Poets 2020, and Best of the Net 2020, among others. She is the author of the chapbook Field of No Justice (African Poetry Book Fund & Akashic Books, 2021).