I took the cup of coffee from you while I was deliberately touching your fingers, I needed your electricity to flow through me so I could wake up. And before I pulled my hand away, you held it in yours. You kissed it a long kiss and returned it to me. You returned it to me as something more than just a hand; a palm and five fingers, you returned it to me as a lute with five strings that plays the melody of love without interruption. We did not utter a word the whole way, we were both silent and listened to the constellation of the East as it warned us of the coming consequences of our absurd clinging to each other, and we were learning in vain. You and I were not created to learn from the words of anyone else who did not know us or know the details of our story. We were only waiting to learn from our own perforated bag.
