Hijabi princess shielded from light and life’s incest...

Hijabi princess shielded from light and life’s incest
Masked mass covering massive
Wondering, is this field the extent to which I will always see the world?
Can I be naked?
Can I be honest?
Forthright with this skin I present with
This skin I am protected by
Can I be skin now?
All follicles and epidermis
Can I be language?
And voice spoken forth?
Can I be meaning?
Hidden behind veiled exterior
I am owned
Remote controlled and choking
Cheap like
Things which can be reproduced
Treasured like
Items which are shielded and untouched
I am untouched
By the love you claim, father
And untouched
By the foreign hands which have power to fly me to the moon
It is natural too, I am sure, to want to be touched
It is natural, too, to be a woman
Not like man equals strength
But all vaginas and breasts
Like
Not like womb, but woman
Not just tithe to climb into
But knowledge to climb out of
And passion to burn
In the bed and in the books
Can I be honest?
When my scalp is graced by the sun, I want to feel warmth
Not the sting of your corded leather against my back
Bracing
Bracing against the force of your insistence
I want warmth from the way that the wind breathes and I want breathing too
Not the paternal touch of my trachea between your fingers
And I want freedom like the way that the hills roll
And I want rolling, too
Like woman
Like hips that walk strong
Like hips that rock autocracy until it is ripped asunder
Like hips that roll
Like hills, rolling
Like Earth
If being woman means that I am to be seeded and tilled
Then I take back my body
I reclaim the old adage that that which is pure must be protected
If I am pure like the spirits of birds
Then I will be free like them, too •

Poem about coming of age and searching for freedom as a Muslim girl in control of a misogynistic father, from Four Years in Chrysalis

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Aisha Tariqa Abdul HaqqJune 11, 2021Comment