cleavermagazine.com
MONDAY MORNING by Babo Kamel • Cleaver Magazine
The palm trees outside the window are waiting to wed. But the officiate is late. They stare at each other, touching fronds, tasting of perpetual summer. At night we hear them imagining themselves elsewhere. Unrooting. We smell the yearning. Annie on Mulberry lane doesn’t believe us. Well, they aren’t outside the window, exactly.