By Sobia Saleem
Garden Grove, CA

You couldn’t even see the whites of her eyes.
If you looked closely,
You might glimpse white slits.
She would stretch her lips
So that the corners of her mouth
Would rise to the center of her cheeks.
She would lean forward,
Her round belly softly rising,
Softly falling.
Fifty lines would etch themselves on her face
Where there were none before,
And sometimes her tongue
Would be sandwiched between her teeth.
She would clasp her hands,
Sitting cross-legged.
She would rock —
Forward and backward.
When she did all these things,
You felt something —
Felt it here —
And you begin to notice that soon others
Won’t even be able to see the whites of your eyes…



Editor: Akhtar M. Faruqui
2004 . All Rights Reserved.