Whenever I gaze into your eyes, I cling to the roots of reality,
lest I succumb to the abyss
of these base emotions that beckon.
To plunge into the depths of your essence
would be dangerous,
and I dare not take that plunge.
I must constantly remind myself that
I am a kafeer
to your world.
But My soul yearns to unravel the enigma
that is, you.
I must resist.
I must maintain the barriers, firmly lock the door.
Yet, a part of me persistently searches for a weakness in the flesh,
a fissure through which I may glimpse
My thoughts incessantly descend,
as if drawn by an unseen force,
In the recesses of my mind, I etch the contours
of your face, your arms, your breasts, your thighs.
Yet I can only see the creases around your eyes,
the sparkle in your light brown irises
when laughter dances upon the deep pools of white.
I can feel your breath. How close we are.
But I must refrain. I must not indulge.
You advise me to inhale deeply, unaware
that your mere presence makes me
forget how to exhale.
My mind screams at me to flee,
warning that looking back would petrify me,
like Lot’s wife transformed into a pillar of salt. How can I be enthralled
by a tale whose conclusion I already know?
I descend into the depths like a diver,
weighted down by the reality that clings to me,
yet none of it offers the sustenance of the oxygen
that your body gives.
Cover image sourced from Pixabay / Pexels. The copyright of ‘Your Purdah’ belongs to Matthew Jerome van Huizen.