#in memory of the deceased children of the brutal Peshawar attack.
I see a little girl, draped in white.
Dark mane swaddling an angelic visage,
warm like the summer sky.
Red Cheeks. Wide eyes.
What does she see?
Puppies fight? A toddler’s game?
Twinkling stars? Falling rain?
Or her mother, acting silly?
Her dreams. Her happiness.
Her dreams. Her doppelganger.
I look at her, the girl in the frame;
at the sister who barely lived.
The sister whom I barely held.