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Where I come from, I’m the devil’s incarnation The fallen woman Lilith. You see, there’s always a dichotomy at play: The sinner, not the saint. The whore and the prostitute. I am the one without a hymen The one mothers spend lifetimes protecting their daughters from becoming. Even by cutting off their clitoris By subjecting

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When Feminism Saves your Life

“There is something paradoxically feminist about the violent inverted logic of eating disorders – a desperate and deadly psychological stand – in for the kind of personal and political freedoms we have not yet achieved. Women and girls who have been denied their own autonomy find a measure of that autonomy in physical and psychological

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Rise

Tattoos are forbidden by their god Their god who is them Your body will not enter heaven The body cannot be a canvas Skin cannot be art It has to carry its wounds Visible, scarred, shamed Violated with no chance Of empowerment The bodies are a cradle of shame The inherent female guilt Your yellow

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The Young

Make way for the young! I’d hate to be the one to break it to you (or no, not really, I don’t care), but you’re dying soon. Stop being so selfish, will you? Are 70 years of living, dominion and destroying not enough? Make some space or at least allow us to claim some. Lift

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Privileged Exile

You read the words of Mahmoud Darwish, his nostalgia, revolution and melancholia swirl the desert dust over times and places to reach your eye. Yes, I swear. This is how the tear settled on my dry cheek. And Nizar Qabbani whose eroticism, love and poetic (but also political) fight for social justice make you tingle

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Language & Identity by the Beach

Watching the sun’s last rays glisten on the waves of the Mediterranean as its burning flame anticipates being quenched by the Sea’s cool water, I listen to Yasmine Hamdan’s raspy Lebanese dialect as she sings of Sehnsucht and heartache (watch video here) . Whether it’s a blessing or a curse, these are things I have long

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Untitled: A Poem

I thiNk of love More than aNythiNg else. My skin always Bruised very Easily It is the oNly Physical RepReseNtatioN of How My MiNd experieNces life. My soul TurNs Black aNd Blue as easily as My skin Does. From the smallest Bumps, EvEn a Good thinG If pRessed too lonG, too strongly. The iNk emBedded

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