Queer Taste
Three poems that are an ode to fruit, flesh, and faith. These poems are tender eruptions of desire, meditations on the eternal meeting between the divine and the beloved. Rooted in the universal: nature, sweetness, hunger. Hafsa’s verse shapes intimacy into something boundless, soft, and sincere.
Coconuts, You, God
God must be real
Because Coconut water comes
In biodegradable packaging
Coconuts make me believe
In God
The way I know God
Must be real
Because You exist
How your beauty could only
Be real because
You are a skilled
Sculptor’s masterpiece
How only a God who loves
Could create such sweet nectar
And keep it safe
Inside something holy
For centuries, my people
Worshipped Coconuts,
Considered every bit a gift
From God
The way I worship You,
Knowing that loving
The creation
Is indeed loving
The Creator
Every sip
A prayer,
A dua
Bringing me closer
To Coconuts,
To You,
To God
Her First Custard Apple
She’s eating
Her first
Custard apple on my bed
I bite
My lip
As a cue for my heart
To stop beating so fast
Her pupils dilated
With childlike wonder,
She picks each bud
With her fingers
Tongue juicy with,
“I’ve never tasted
This carpel before”
The sweetness of
Gentle labour
Fruit that demands
To be eaten slowly
Each mouthful,
Complete flavour
She sucks the seed
With patience
Sweet Aftertaste
I want you,
Last thing
At night,
Every night
Without you, my meals feel incomplete
I’m always craving for your flavour
To wash over my tongue,
Take over my senses
When I was little,
I could eat a whole watermelon,
I’d swell unashamed
In sweet gluttony, dripping down my chin
I make a mess
Left alone with
Delicious honey
When everything is over,
At the end of each day,
I’m still dreaming
Of your sweet aftertaste
