the Eye in Her blue hand

by Dina El Dessouky, Kurungabaa, Vol. 1, Issue 2, July 2008

the Eye in Her blue hand

I.

I found my
self
lost at sea
when my eye shifted
equivocally
between two
concrete nations
imagined specks
on an unfocused horizon (:)

Egypt and “America”?

Egypt- n’ -America

Egyptian-American

(note the hyphen)
now I have been
hyphenated-I
saw
my
I- dentity
bi- furcated
when my id’s
entity
hibernated

somewhere between Egypt and America
my story begins
not with the taut line that is the hyphen
but with a taut line reeling me in
off of dry land
a moment of hyphenation
turned into hydration
when Maui’s great fishhook
swung a wide left
over uneven topography
and took out
the roots of an unsettled date tree

I caught along the blade
of that sleek hydrofoil
broke through the surface
with a single
high fin
arched like the back of a dolphin
and breathed in salt air,
to taste the sweat of the desert
there.

II.

I am of the we
who lose ourselves at sea
take pleasure in our own
blurred reflections on the surface
of moana nui
recognize consistency
in that inconsistent sea
the comfort of culture
in her slippery arms

we, born with aqualungs
et plusieurs langues
our many long tongues
licking outwards
never sticking to the roofs of
closed mouths
flying loose
unleashing pure creolitees
we hydroplane like liquid banshees
across the crystal ball below us,
a permeable glass portal
foretells the deaths of our
selves
in (re)creation
re-enter our mère
la mer
there.

III.

my people
migrate in waves
changing faces
inconstant
in lone caravans
we ride storms
with trade winds
as the routes of our trade
exchange identities
over sea or sand
in search of that
floating homeland

I found myself
lost at sea
when
the eye in Fatima’s hand
guided me
to the baladi version
of Hawaiki
where divergent souls return
when we die
to sow barakat of barrels
shelter for the weathered
seedlings we leave behind

she cultivates us
into motley mangroves
of date or palm novelties
that respect the place of
the niu trees
to form da kine family

our trees bear hearty fruits
genealogies (re)membered in their roots
my roots are curly tangles like yours
hydroponic and swimming
to new shores