THE FOLLOWING POEM WAS SELECTED IN WINGWORD POETRY PRIZE 2023 LONGLIST.
1.
i was five when i first played hide-and-seek with you
it was easy then
the closet
the kitchen cabinet
the perfume bottle on my father’s nightstand.
maybe i just knew where to look
maybe you let me win.
2.
the underside of my bed has been stuffed with boxes of books and there’s no longer any space
i push aside the ones i don’t read.
in the night
i hear the creaking of old cardboard beneath me
i close my eyes, and smile.
3.
my body grows in all directions and i am filled with empty rooms
i panic and begin to name them
living, dining, prayer, bed
i leave a spare key under the carpet outside
my mother says it’s not safe.
(‘anyone can come in.’)
4.
the living room spills into the kitchen spills into the bedroom spills into all the boxes that make up my tv stand
life crowds around me, so
i stay out as late as i can
and lock myself in when i am home.
i don’t know that i’ve lost my spare key
i don’t care to find it.
5.
my father calls to ask how i am.
i tell him about the boxes, the crowding, the solitude.
he asks: are you praying?
i remember a game i forgot we were still playing.
6.
okay. so maybe it’s my fault.
but you didn’t call back either.
and how was i supposed to find you
in this city of millions?
everyone says they’ve seen you but they’ve all got different descriptions.
and all i’ve got is a prayer mat limp from neglect.
7.
is it even hide and seek if you’ve been blindfolded?
8.
listen: i tried.
i scoured the earth for you
learned languages
unlearned history
i was even swallowed by a whale
yet even in the dark, i could not find you.
9.
my mother tells me a story of brewed tea leaves, a mu’ezzin, and a yawning morning.
10.
i unfold my prayer mat, and sit
and try to remember.