2. Silence

Silence

Days had passed since that quarrel which culminated in the slap, the marks of which Kabir still wore on his cheek.

We slept together, we had no other choice, but we didn't touch.

I stretched out on my right side on the left side of the bed, and he the opposite .

Whole nights with our back to each other, committed to keeping silence, not to give in to the desire to apologize.

Yet our hands - mine ringed and soft, his calloused and rough - found them close, not in contact, as if during the night they had sought each other and then, found themselves, had withdrawn, not even ready to apologize.

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