Microagressions...

"The first on the left", he says
at 9 am by the library entrance
the sounds of dew-eyed students swirling through the air
in and out of industrial vents
bouncing off
of
concrete and marble walls.

She goes to the middle gate
the gate adjacent
the second turnstile entrance
and then finally the first...
but on the right.

Each time her eyes peeking through, sending confused glances
those eyes so beautiful, dressed in kohl.

He, exasperated and out of patience
with a look of impatience and air of haughtiness
sighs
rolls his eyes
and lets her in
mumbling under his breath
"She must not understand".
Without even knowing, or thinking about the possibility
that the veiled female wrapped in western
was just as American as he.

Socratic Buddha on deconstructing (c)overt racism and microagressions.