Bisan is trying not to cry on camera. Her body; the last thing left to die. There is an entire strip in Gaza coated in tents. They wake up blown. Seven year olds should not attend wakes for other seven year olds. Wind takes their ashes to the beach instead. The unluckily alive surrender to another encampment. In Congo, they are driving children underground, their nimble fingers plucking, gun cocking, teaching them how to power off bodies at an aim. There is no camera. Nobody will watch. There are countries that are eating their young, scooping them in grief and gun powder. The West umbrella drops the grains they took from them. Hope is not brave. It is a stupid choice I make on their behalf. Recently, Ghana is making shadows of their Queers. Illegals hiding in their homeland. Their Independence Day just passed. And they restart slavery in the dawn of a new year. But i have a camera and someone is watching.