—don’t ask why, I don’t want to go into it with you—
but Allah is bemused and just waiting it out.
An apology would be nice,
but I’m not going to hold my breath.
Allah says He will love me even if I have turned blue.
I don’t want Him trying to make it up to me, either.
With his cooings and ear-nibblings—
sure I love that stuff, but not when I’m so mad I could spit.
I just want him to imagine how I must feel for just a second.
To understand how cruel and vicious life can be
when you’re not the one holding all the power,
and something like….like this happens.
He seems oblivious, though,
and just wants me to sit down, have some tea
and “relax, relax, relax.”
Listen to Najat, buster:
If you want to kiss, here’s my round brown behind.
I’ll “relax” when the energy you put into sympathy
rivals the effort you put into seduction.
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