To the women who stood against Triple Talaq
When days turned dusky for you
I knew you waited for full moon
to see how baya weavers rub beaks
in consent to preserve their love.
Like a globetrotter who never rides on
the fanfare of trumpets, of war and glory
I knew how you craved for equity
crying like a maudlin Stradivarius.
Your Nikah was no devotion,
but the carousal of a ravenous brute
and as you realized those owls
waiting to carry your chicks
like pouches of field mice
all that you prayed for was new moon.
I know now, from your palms
sliding from ears to cheeks
and from your eyelids
opening like hushed oyster-shells —
pearls still shine in your eyes –
that never feared, never gave up
to scream a hundred Talaqs
to Talaq, Talaq, Talaq
This site is designed and maintained by GONECASE