by Evan J. Peterson

"Hijab Girl: Not So Modest" by Deviantnorm

Pearled like a swine in cream and black
it’s caught on your lashes, not thighs.
The running mascara turns grey
and slips. All you have are your eyes:

the bridge of your nose, gash-plucked brows,
the lashes like porcupine quills.
Trickle by trap, are you his sow
with your gag-hidden mouth that chills?

Your hair is wrapped in quiet pride.
His hot little splash soaks, a tag.
You’re stone and appear unsurprised
your niqaab has become his rag.

Each milky filament pulls you
down. Blink, drink, or just let it dry.
Dribble by drop, but you refuse
to drown. All you have are your eyes.

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