Men’s shame is not woman’s sin.
Take me to Iran,
Give me back Pakistan and Afganistan
In the 1960s and
Full of free knees.
Laughter chimes in sunlight and memory
In that old picture I am crossing my legs
For emphasis, face focused with curiosity.
Then, when I spoke, others read my lips,
Interpreted my eyes, and watched my laugh.
Sun dappled courtyard, cobblestones made way for my heels.
As I laugh, I am light and feel like skipping
Through some perfect string of words.
What is more important than the topic I have forgotten,
Is the conversation I was allowed to have.about the author