Glasgow

Arabic on the streets of Glasgow
I want to close your eyes
With my fingertips and take you
Back to pop beats on buses
Back to thick coffee laced
With cigarette smoke…
Open.
The ones with jobs
Stride high-heeled
Back to them
Open.
The ones without
Hold cardboard signs
Saying “help”
And a woman in a pink hijab
Tilts her phone
To show the pigeons to a mum
Who will never come
To Glasgow
And everyone
Is passing everyone
Everything
Is passing everything
Seeing
And not seeing
Smiling
And not smiling
Saying
And not saying
That your language blossoms
In my mouth too
Your language blossoms
In my mouth too
Arabic
On the streets of Glasgow