Détente

A slip of pink chiffon 
It might as well be concrete
A Berlin wall of fabric
between you and me
Thank God
If we try to cross
This textile no man's land
No machine guns will fire
No dogs will leap
To tear out throats
No Fletchers here
We stand to lose
Only our own conceits
Come!
Let us be the Wetzels
The Strlzycks of hijab
Let us soar
On scraps of nylon
On discarded bits
Of misperception
Soar over the covered hairs
The covered minds
Into uncharted
lands of amity