VERSE
by Kiran Masroor
I. Maybe none of the revelations are true, and all that we know
Is that Prophet Muhammad was an exceptionally loving man,
And something about him inspired loyalty in others.
I am standing in front of a train and I watch its stiff body
Follow the track. It blinks before slinking back into
The night.
II. My father told me about a story in the Quran,
The night the moon split in half, two shards in
The sky.
I am eyeing the loose change in my palm. The wind blows
And the train screeches, and for a second, I think I see
Abraham Lincoln’s eyes move.
III. In the Quran, there are singular sentences of verse which
Are so powerful, they are entire prayers
By themselves.
Tonight, the boy I love tells me that these are his favorite verses.
He’ll tell this to me in a whisper before cradling the
Back of my head with his palm.
IV. The floors of this mosque once knew my father intimately.
When I return here, I know it will claim me.
There are no endings in Islam, only reiterations.
On the last day of high school, a bird flew into our classroom.
Everyone was quiet as it soared through the room,
Wings beating.
Is that Prophet Muhammad was an exceptionally loving man,
And something about him inspired loyalty in others.
I am standing in front of a train and I watch its stiff body
Follow the track. It blinks before slinking back into
The night.
II. My father told me about a story in the Quran,
The night the moon split in half, two shards in
The sky.
I am eyeing the loose change in my palm. The wind blows
And the train screeches, and for a second, I think I see
Abraham Lincoln’s eyes move.
III. In the Quran, there are singular sentences of verse which
Are so powerful, they are entire prayers
By themselves.
Tonight, the boy I love tells me that these are his favorite verses.
He’ll tell this to me in a whisper before cradling the
Back of my head with his palm.
IV. The floors of this mosque once knew my father intimately.
When I return here, I know it will claim me.
There are no endings in Islam, only reiterations.
On the last day of high school, a bird flew into our classroom.
Everyone was quiet as it soared through the room,
Wings beating.
Kiran Masroor is a junior at Yale University where she studies Neuroscience under the pre-medical track. She is involved in TEETH Slam Poetry and the Yale International Relations Association, and volunteers at the Connecticut Hospice. Her poetry has been published in publications such as the New York Quarterly, Writers Resist, and the Yale Global Health Review.