I’ve never known the ecstasy of burning

In the Sun-heat from your

Nutmeg-colored skin.

You and I both cloak ourselves

In repartee and hyperbolic laughter,

Obscured within the cunning folds

Of our agreed, relational hijabs.

I’ve noticed lately, when you howl at

Words I coyly slide from mouth to ear,

The edges of your mirth and your

Enjoyment, your ebullient delight,

Are frayed and tasseled, ragged-hemmed –

They spark with hidden flames.

I do not dare to touch you.

Do not dare.

If we without our veils were to engage in

Solar-powered revelations, could

We not withstand the furious,

Undiscovered, secret storms

That might rage, then?



  • Lorna

    The use of the "hijab" is such a powerful symbol of "forbidden" in this poem! Wonderful writing!

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