On Finding the Prophet Muhammad (PBUH) in…

I slip into my insolence, sleek as an eel.

I have walked so many ways around God I can tell you

Holiness is a roundabout

With a thousand exit points labeled doubt;

Like the boy who unzipped my pants

In my sleep, who broke the zipper of my sleep

So I have lost the measure of rest since;

Like my father leaving before I knew him or could speak;

My body forever unkneeling to pray

Unless there’s a zipper in front of me, a boy in front

Of me a ghost a beckoning a gate where, perhaps,

If I open wide enough I will be able to wake,

Again, and still, soaked as I am in shame—still

I care about my Prophet’s name.

Source: Poetry (June 2023)