To Bury Them
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.
-a child dies in yemen every 10 minutes
Riya M. Cyriac is a 17-year-old writer based in Texas. Her poetry and stories have been published in Bitter Fruit Review, the Ambient Heights Anthology, and more. She is the Executive Director of The Young Writers Initiative, a writing nonprofit that educates, serves, and inspires young writers. They also publish a bi-annual literary journal. She aspires to make poetry that makes you think, and that leaves the reader with something. You can find her on her website, riyacyriac.com, @rmcwrites on instagram, and @riyamcyriac everywhere else.
