Abbas

You look at me with those eyes of joy even though you have just spilled water over yourself in your rush to quench my thirst. I cry for I know what your smile means and how you will once more, with childlike love look at me with your heart, your eyes blinded by blood, and call me Master.

I see it again and again in your destiny and mine unending until the end of time – in Gorazde and Dachny, Sharpeville and Mai Lai, Sand Creek and every single Nainavar. You are Abbas, and all I ask, as to eternal bliss you depart, is “Call me brother.”