Beyond these walls there’s a place

where they are sisters and daughters

and soon, inshallah, virtuous

wives- and mothers-to-be.

 

Out there where modesty's praised,

their future's determined.

Their allurements buried

like a hoard, each bride-price

 

is settled. Being who they are

and where they come from,

each is a link in the chain

that holds the world together.

 

The same acquiescence

guarantees their quietness

in this studious zone,

where peering eyes absorb

 

the shapes their fingers follow:

alif, baa, taa … Filling in

the vowels from memory,

they hear syllables murmuring

 

inside their heads.

                                  And who can say

what they'll make of all the things they learn –

their lives safe and circumscribed,

their lips scarcely moving?