The souls had their rendezvous: those who liked each other then, love here; those who remained strangers then, do not join here Prophet Muhammad S.

The first time we met was not the first I swear
by the tumbling of light and dark in your eyes
and the crumbling of my thoughts in answer,
our memory electrified except we had forgotten
to go to class and felt the piercing of this place
the way that entering into prayer pierces a place
The edges of our meeting were clouded over
with the rolling mist of ancient memories
so that we could pretend we were standing
on shuddering stars and not on star-shaped leaves
 on the cracked cement path to the campus musallah.
Suddenly the pin popped out of my hijab
and the significance popped out of the moment
and all seemed lost except I was able to fix my scarf,
so that in the curve of your half-smile
and in the shiver of my arms and in the looks 
we exchanged like messages we remembered.
This was an introduction of bodies.
The whiteness of your wrist,
the perfect sculpture of your teeth,
these are burned in my memory.

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