Nour Abuelreich

She was born in August.

A refugee to refugees.

Her birth, a blur

in a teaching hospital.

The students decided on an epidural.

A bit too late for one,

to be injected into your spine

and watched you fade away.

When you were gone,

the delivery doctor arrived.

They delivered her as you

faded between consciousness.

You never heard her screams

when they slapped her back .

Never got the opportunity to hold her covered in fluids

or sever the umbilical cord connecting her to you.