I think I will recite the entire story of the night with so much excitement. But I don’t think I will. No one has the guts. There’s something in our culture that forbids it. There’s something in our roots that makes us ignore our own flaws. Well, let me write it down anyway.
The terrace is dark but comfortable— I wouldn’t mind living there. I don’t need a roof. Walls suffocate me round the building, there are temples to keep me awake, and a mosque to tell me the time. I haven’t yet found the star I’m looking for; there are way too many to keep track of. His arms lay crossed the entire night, his hands clenching around my shapeless belly— even the strongest force couldn’t have torn them apart. I could have, but didn’t. I just laid back staring at the sky of the small terrace, as if it held the answers to all my troubles. . A scratch here, a pull there, a tear here, a block there, I could feel all of him slowly syncing with every organ in my body.....Maybe....
He stared at me from the minute I sat down to the minute I got off at my destination. The attraction in his piercing eyes shone so much that I could see all of me in them. What was it about you that made me crazy?
He hasn’t taken his eyes of me. My tears stayed rigid around my eyes as if they are too afraid to fall. I want to press my hands into his and tell him, to hold me even more closely. But instead, I squirm and look away, as if I am counting those stars. I have no regrets. Fire births fire, they teach. So be it. Here’s all I have.
When we finally stood up, I looked at him again. His eyes are still on me but they’re milder now. Not quite calm, but resigned. I want to tell him, thanks for the hug, I know but, I don’t. From the safety of the morality platform, I watched the tear fall just as though a train rushed past. It didn’t explode.