May 19, 2013

Store bought

Filed under: Poetry — by Zuhair @ 4:10 pm

Its real.

This bus is real,

So is the seat.

So is the heat.

There goes the air conditioner.

It’s even realer.

But what about her?

She’s a blur.

Her eye hurts.

The color irritates.

Her eyes are fake,

So is that layered cake.

Her face.

Is it strawberry?

Does she even know?

The other girl wore cherry.

What’s the difference?

Yes, what is.

She doesn’t know it’s cherry.

She thought it was strawberry.

So she bought it

When she bought those feathers.

No, not birds’

Adornment to add to cheap leathers.

Channel, Calvin Kline, Guchi,

What are they?

Who knows.

Why do you have them?

Are they convenient?

They’re not cheap.

Are those Jimmy Chou’s nice?

Are they nicer than Meryl Streep’s?

Why do you have them?

There’s a cut where it digs your skin.

Do you care?

It pricks like a pin, you say.

So why?

‘I don’t know. Because she has it.’

So? Who’s she?

I could have it too.

But I’m me.


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Amal Ahmed Albaz

Journalist; Poet; Speaker. Superman’s got his cape around his neck; I've got my hijab around my head.

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