Me, L. P. - Marija Bralović

you know
all my letters
about hitchhiking in Bulgaria
and those suspicious Turkish truckers
about the peaks of the Caucasus
which I watched being thrilled

Numbered - Marija Bralović

each of them
had an identification number
on the left hand

in Auschwitz
you didn’t  have a name.
just that number
four hundred
thousand serial numbers

The Sound of Beirut - Marija Bralović

when I

closed my eyes
and let myself
feel something
I had long feared
I heard
the sound of trumpets
echoing through the streets of Beirut
whose sorrow