Her body was dressed as if she was a bouquet of flowers
That face peering out of her hijab like a copper rose
She had a grin made of pearls, her heart - a ruby the size of my fist
She radiated such warmth, but I asked her, "Why do you still feel cold?"
Her hand was like ice when she had lifted it to my cheek
I almost flinched, I could still feel her touch lingering behind on me
It reminded me of those long bus rides - when I'd fall sleep
How my face would feel after I laid it against foggy, cold windows
"Because I'm feeling blue today, maybe", she said with a laugh
"The crescent moon itself wrapped in sunset colored silk?", I teased
"Never full, never even half. I only let them see my good side"
"That's wise, a vision for only Allah and a way to make mortal men beg and plead"
She said these days - the coverings feel more like bandages
Keeping her from spilling all her red ink,
but eventually, it'd all just bleed through anyway
Can't hide suffering behind a transparent curtain, forever on display
Tears still fall, sweaty hands still tremble
Emotions can't burn without leaving ashes
I think she's hoping she can blame it all on the weather
December shivers and thin ice on her long eyelashes
YOU ARE READING
Loose Teeth
PoetryA poetry collection about the art of letting go and changing under the stains of time. You lose little pieces of who you were in order to evolve. Pull those loose teeth, and make room for something better. Let's grow together.
