I did this once, for Muma.
Washed her body with water
pressed her stomach to release lingering fluid
combed her long, black hair
weaved it into three braids
wrapped her within a large linen cloth
watched them take her to the burial grounds
prayed those rites passing her old to new.
I do this again, for Nour.
Washed her body with water
pressed her stomach to release lingering fluids
combed her long, black hair,
weaved it into three braids
wrapped her within a small linen cloth
carried her tiny body to the burial grounds
prayed those rites passing her new to a new
bit back shame infused tears and unbecoming silence
as I threw three handfuls of dirt
over my daughter’s grave.