Eve's leaves, Adam's eyes, this is more than squabblings over forbidden fruit
For thirteen years we've touched with my every movement,
So much so, that to seperate would be like to wake up one day
And discover you've lost all visible traces to your parental ethnicity;
Can you imagine the loss, the confusion, the instinct to hide away?
Like any connection, it has its implicit understandings, to uphold this
I need to accept like any ethnic minority, majority, Americanphobiority
How others and Others associate a myriad of identities,
Bigot, frigid, judging, scared, ignorant, conformist, whateverist
That tell me they've found something to latch on, to comfort them
Just like the be-longing we have, my Hijab and I
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