Hurt, hoisted
Like
A flag
Unfurled
At half mast
On an empty street.
Attempts at stringing together words as art.
Hurt, hoisted
Like
A flag
Unfurled
At half mast
On an empty street.
“I love you”
“I miss you”
Words rush out
racing to meet
someone
something.
No one.
Nothing.
(Found on the memo app on my phone, I think it was written in early 2011)
I’ve been dreaming
Of you –
and me
And all of us.
Together again
Like the people we used to be.
Of remembering
Tafseer
Teachers
And untidy triumphs
In tangles of misogyny.
Of reunions
Terror
Tempests
And tidy trumpets
In twists of fidelity.
And me –
Just me
In my tattiest dress
And I couldn’t care less.
Still wet from a swim
In a river I wish I was real
My hair,
Curly,
Unruly
Conspicuous
Never mind the veil.
We too were once
That girl
With hope flowering
in her heart as
an embrace of possibility.
We too were once
That girl
Doodling a name
A thousand times over
We too were once
That girl
With love on her lips
ready to spring out
in the bitter winter cold
to smile into your eyes.
We too were once
That girl
Who hoped
and prayed
and believed
that life would be beautiful.
Whatever in the world happened to her?