Ibrahim

8 year old Ibrahim from the airy villages of el-Mansoura
gagged when I asked him if his grade school love-interest
was the color of my Sahara skin,
samra

"only fair-skin will do,
a pretty porcelain girl
who looks European”

"but Ibrahim,
you don’t look like that, sweetie
do you hate your own flesh?”

he gagged again,
“oh, but I do look like them!
see my straight hair?”


naira badawi

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tagged as: poetryslave complexfeaturedpoetry

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