There is a man, silent as a stare
He whispers assalamalaikum through morose breath, eyes galactic, heaven brown
Wedged between his teeth is the charm every black boy inherits
Today he is the only son
to a father, weighing change in his fist
He adorns a white kufi
the black of a small Mecca sewn into
the front and back
This is the closest you have ever been to it
yet this is how far it has travelled
Round round, a pilgrimage bound
to an unmoving man
Wudu clean from afternoon’s
rise and fall, he runs a finger
over your palm, cautious,
bored
This, you allow,
for there is nothing left of you, nothing waiting,
so you choose to be lonely for that.
Mariam Hassan
is a poet and filmmaker whose work has been published in several literary magazines across Africa and beyond such as Odd Magazine and Afro Literary, and anthologies such as Are Not Stones IV: Demigods, Corona’cles 2020 with Rato Million Media, and Between the Silence: Poetry for Human Rights. Her writing explores themes of identity, love and self discovery formed under formulaic and intimate writing styles. She enjoys music, sand under her feet and maladaptive daydreaming.
