Birthdays and Boys

We're too young to make babies. Potential fathers leave us questioning ourselves. Big words usually confuse us and we may not be intelligent when making decisions but we have the valuable ability to feel. We are girls and we are better than boys.
Lately all I really want is just to feel her lips with mine.I want to kiss girls. All the pretty ones. And you're an idiot if my lesbian tendencies scare you.
Boys have scratchy faces that leave stupid little gashes on our rosy cheeks.  A girl on the other hand, soft and smooth as a cashmere sweater.
I'm fantastic and special just because I can bleed for days every month and still be alive.
And some day, when they will marry me off to a man I hardly know, inside myself I will turn him and me into a cute little human being. Possibly even more than one cute little human beings.
And if I give birth to a girl, I'll let her talk to boys. I'll let her invite them to our house and I will leave them alone for a little while. Enough time for a kiss or two.

Right In Front of Me

I just want you to spin me around.
Can you spin me around, please?

After much pleading and strategic tickling, he agreed. She laughed and laughed, screaming happily and kicking her legs in the air. He spun her really fast, so fast that when she looked up she saw the fan stay still.


Not so fast! Not this fast!


I can only do one speed, paagal.


The best part though was that even if she did let go and waved her arms about he would still be holding on to her, carrying her, spinning her at ceiling fan speeds while they got disapproving looks from the grown-ups.


She was half the size of him, half the age too. With almost invisible gold fuzz all over her skin and the sound of her 't's softer than snow, the half Muslim girl is learning to make friends in a place that she doesn't belong to. Or maybe a place that she belongs to the most.