Sister Asha
- Admin
- 4 days ago
- 1 min read
has not been naked
since her birth.
That’s not to say
she bathes in her
chador. But the bubbles
are a screen of
air & water.
And they alone
are worthy. From such
we’re gifted life.
That’s not to
say a zephyr
hasn’t whiffed
her tawny skin.
That the moth
has never ventured
to her breasts.
For this is why
they rest in
white apparel.
A nun from
down the road
will pass her by. Glossed
in an obsidian
sentry. Slowly going
umber from the sun.
Says Christ
is not Allah’s.
Both will dream
of doves.
Both will tread in
glory. For the earth
will preserve their
bones. And nothing’s
as resplendent as
the perished. For where
is our partition
not of flesh?
Reveal which skull has
cursed you.
The hand which
casted cobble. The orbs that
looked away
when you approached,
forging the phantom
flight
of a mourning plume.
Andreas Gripp
July 9, 2026
photo: chador official
Comments