Ghazal translates roughly as talking to women:
My grandmother sang on national radio
My mother, a child on a drawing room floor
And hers drawing words tight into pale red soundbites
I talk to women too, putting my mouth right into it.
The subject of faith still pervades – like Weil says,
Prayer is attention left uncorrupted. Our days are
A slow downhill tumble of honey.
Everything moves like a soundwave,
You look at me, arms akimbo, dressed in black – And you really look at me, in nothing at all,
Nothing metaphysical about it;
You end with my name.
BEE KHALEELI is a Montreal-based student and writer, as well as a critically acclaimed dyke. Born in Pakistan and raised in various Canadian cities, they primarily study modern South Asian history and migration. Bee works in sexual violence prevention. Their writing can be found in The McGill Daily and Toronto-based literary magazine cool customer, as well as in other publications.
Copyright © 2019 by Bee Khaleeli. All rights reserved.