Hajib

The car rounds my corner as I count breaths while waiting through a familiar melange of urine and rotted fish She is framed in black hajib children seated in the back of course she is not driving and her gaze catches my eye She’s not looking at me She’s not looking at anything as her eyes light the boulevard She is somewhere, not here I know that intensely because I know that look She’s more than distant from her rented reality She leads a double life far from the stench of the boulevard far from that car and the code that veils her She speaks to me long distance in freestyle and I can hear her laughter see her hair carried along the breeze its highlights caressing sunkissed shoulders as she watches her children play near an ocean, somewhere I know that look I have self swathed in hajib to please My eyes grew weary on roads I would have traveled if not for shackles, unseen but real yet I had choices, keys and unfortunately, cowardice I took too long to carve a path I see her youth and scream silently She is gone. Did she hear me somehow? Her chains are stronger those keys lie protected in dogma and fire I knew her when I saw her eyes but we are worlds apart.