Muslim Prayers
Rebecca Ruth Gould
My udon noodles were longer,
thicker & probably tastier
than your beef tongue.
I never found out
because I forgot to eat,
as I often do when captivated
by someone.
I grasped the chopsticks
in my hand & watched
you check your watch
every five minutes.
You were working to a deadline.
There was something wrong—
yet also right—about being
together with you,
eating pan-Asian in St Pancras,
you telling me about your wife’s
previous sex life & me
projecting my every thought
of you onto someone else—
so that our friendship would
never abandon its purpose—
& the Muslim formulas
that we repeated as infidels,
binding our heresies together.
‘In sha’ Allah. If God wills,
there will be mercy on us.
I thought about how
it would have been to be
a sibling to you, or a lover
or just a friend, unburdened
by expectations.
I thought about your wife too
& the strength of her will
& you reading stories
to your daughter every night in bed.
All this passed through my head
as you stood to pay the bill.
A life lived well flashed before me
& I just wanted to tell you:
Alhamdulillah.
As-Salamu Alaykum.
May God be praised.
May peace be upon you.