Not what they had felt when jumping off the cliff, heart in heart, into the sea of LOVE.
”I would like to borrow the night of your hair so that I may rest my tiredness on it, lest I go out to meet myself without myself!”, said He.
She thanks the waiter, discretely checks upon her red lipstick, opens her pack of cigarettes and lits one. Taking a deep breath of the cigarette in, Mariam exhales heart-shaped smoke. She indulges the moment, gazing out of the window. The forest is dense and thick. The smell of fresh pine and fir invades the train wagon. The dose of oxygen urges Mariam to return to Fares.
Thank You for bringing me back our Home.
For enabling me to reach the essence of my being so that I can outreach the limits of my true self and of my senses.
It’s that place we call Home
my dear Rose,
my best friend a jamais …