its so strange
being the love child
of two lands
never knowing
which one’s your home
the children of the blue and red
staring in shock
at my confessions
blind to my
abstinence
because
i’ve never held
sin in my lips
and let it disintegrate
into smoke
and the children of the sun,
mistaking my gentleness
and bold eyes
as
flirtation
i am the
late night conversations
of my ancestors
clad in bright silk cloths
over hair
strong as rope
in my dreams,
i kneel with hesitation
and raise my head
to meet their
glimmering eyes
i timidly ask them
what oil could possibly give their hair
so much strength
they giggle when they tell me:
darling,
its not oil
its tears.
Bio: Imaan Sultan is an American Pakistani who lives in Saudi Arabia. She has been published in multiple local magazines and hopes to expand her writing to the world and eventually, write her own book. When she isn’t writing, she enjoys bullet journaling, listening to k-pop, and trying all sorts of food.