If I were a painting, I could maybe understand
Your desire to stand before me and strip
Me down until you are satisfied with the
Judgments you have made about me, as though
You are an expert on what it means to be
But I am not a painting, and I am not here
For your viewing pleasure, so kindly
Hold your tongue and refrain from telling
Me what I should wear and how I should look
Because hijab was a command brought
Down for you first. God said lower your gaze
And yet here you are, not only staring but
Passing along your pearls of wisdom that no one asked for.
What will it take for you to understand that my hijab
Is mine and mine alone, and that your hypocrisy
Isn’t welcome here?
I am not a painting, placed meticulously in an exhibit
For you to walk past and look at all you want
I am not interested in your criticism nor do I want
Next time you see me in my hijab and want to verbalize
Your concern, maybe practice in front of a mirror first.