Dana The Arab Hijabi

I see her all the time in the campus library.
A tall, curvy young Arab woman wearing Hijab and Track pants.
At once religious and tomboyish, and uniquely beautiful.
So beautiful that she moves even me,
A man who notices both men and women.

Such beauty and simplicity,
I yearn to get to know her,
Don’t know how to approach her,
This Library Beauty.

I notice her,
And I can feel her power,
So much that she makes me forget the others,
The men like myself,
On the prowl for other men.

I am reminded of my duties,
That as a Muslim man,
I must become a husband and father,
Which I shall do someday soon.

My gaze wanders, as men’s gaze often does,
I notice the tall, masculine young men, and I smile,
I notice the effeminate, the strange and the weird, and I avoid their gaze,
For I do not want them.

That’s what it means,
To be a Bisexual man,
You see everything,
Except what you want the most.
Such a dilemma, eh ?

I wonder what the world sees,
When it looks at me,
A burly, dark-skinned son of Africa,
One cursed, or blessed, with dual desires.

Dana walks through the library,
Just one of many beauties in Hijab,
I gaze upon her,
This Daughter of Arabia.

Men who want men walk by,
They make eye contact with me,
They want me,
They’ll have to wait,
Possibly forever,
For I want her.

I want to sit with her,
Have coffee with her,
Make her smile,
Hug her,
Kiss her,
Make love to her.

Such strange thoughts,
Especially coming from me,
The most fickle man on earth,
But such is her power,
Dana the Hijabi.