washee/was she
By Sahar Muradi
she was washee i told her you are
like your motherland a wilderness
needs a belt laid down two white
hotel towels took her into the tub to
wudu the boys out of her mouth pointed
her nipples toward qibla wiped clean
her intention to perform ruk’u as if
carrying a glass of chai on her back
fold at the knees palms to the ground
tucked her soles under her astaghfirullah
used country
in my used country I felt his teeth
circle as a mosquito the black mystery
he placed my right hand over my wrong
stain said he was bringing me home
offered me a suite with a lock a key in
the shape of a brother perhaps twenty-
two years old my body pure as a glass
table he spilled was she my boss on my
back at night came easy as a fly
to post-conflict faithfully
used my country
circle as a mosquito the black mystery
he placed my right hand over my wrong
stain said he was bringing me home
offered me a suite with a lock a key in
the shape of a brother perhaps twenty-
two years old my body pure as a glass
table he spilled was she my boss on my
back at night came easy as a fly
to post-conflict faithfully
used my country
Source: Poetry (April 2019)