I
try to forget about Maryam
And
that time I mistakenly walked
In
on her while she stepped out
Of
the shower and grabbed her
Hijab
in fright. I think of Ramadan
Instead,
in August two years back,
When
Raahil invited me for Hilal.
I
thought it was a celebration—
His
parents laughed when I asked
When
we would eat. I did not know
What
I now know—that some fast
For
holy rites—but they explained
Spiritual
hunger and how to feed it;
While
they spoke, I hoped Maryam
Would
not tell them that I saw her.
We
gathered when the crescent
Moon
rose, and my stomach growled,
Hungry
for something I did not know.
