The place where we rode our bikes
Looked like this–up high, safe
From the loud eyes of others.
The roof kept our secrets. All those times
You took off your scarf I wanted to touch
Your hair and the walls knew.
They never deceived me. They never said
All the things I wanted to say like I would pray
To Allah if it meant having you, and
Masha’Allah, you are beautiful, and
You are the only girl I know
Who rides a bike
I wonder what you are like now.
I wonder if you remember being young.
I wonder if you bought your little girl a bike and
If she loves a boy who talks to God
In a different way that she does–
I hope so.