MY MUSLIMAH

 Doubt I felt when, this year,

I heard her voice;

Confused. Shocked. I thought
I had failed her.

However, happiness hones me —

Gifted with a milky object from within.

Naughtiness is the language of her body.

A moment with her brightens my thoughts.

Her smiles would heal an ill nation.

She is a rose for whom I spite other flowers.

Unbeknownst to her, my inner self of true feeling.

Scared to touch her each time I come close.

A mirage, to me, she appears.

But she endows me spiritually, with reminders of solat —

My adhan, straight from Allah.

Yet unaware, she glows away darkness.


Innocence

is what i see every time I gaze,

Every time she looks away.

She's that artifact a man would like to own

She's like the cloud we can see, but can't touch;

Mature enough to make me a platonic friend,

But that is not all I ever wanted.


Written by
Oladipo Afeez Olajide

@Ladoime