Vincent de Paul - Kenyan Writer
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She’s behind a wall so high
that I couldn’t climb
but I’m going to wait outside
to see Maimun.

She’s my moon
and I’m her night time
when she comes out
and lets me see beneath her burqa.

Maimun takes it off:
her burqa
her shash
          her dirac
and lets me see beneath her—beautiful!

We’ve carried on for so long
to stop it would be wrong
we’ve fought for our love
even her father and Allah.

Maimun’s God frowns on me, mushrikin
“But that won’t scare me,” she says.
I won’t let go of my moon
‘cause she’ll be right here with me
even if my god is not Allah.

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