The man of my dreams
I met Cute Boy. The hour at which we were meeting was odd, but we did anyway. We were at the imambargah again. Abeer was with me.
I told him how I felt about him.. how much I wanted him. He smiled a gorgeous smile that made me wanna kiss him, but I didn't.. 'cause we were surrounded by religious Shi'ite Muslim folks who wouldn't appreciate that sort of love between two men. So I just smiled back at him. We flirted back and forth. Abeer was talking to him too, but he was looking into my eyes and smiling at me. I was looking back and smiling wide.
People in the imambargah were getting visibly irritated by the noise we were making, leaning against the partition and talking loudly like that. So we lowered our voices. After a while, we just left the place. We decided to go to a coffee shop or something.
The scene shifted to a chat window. I was chatting with him on MSN. The background of the window was red. We were talking about perfumes for some reason.
Then I woke up. My dream ended. Bluntly, just like that. The sunlight was pouring in, through my window. The clock was showing 8:25. Beside me, Arjun was curled up under his blanket, still lost in his dreamland. I clicked my lips and tongue in the way that we Indians do when we're annoyed, got out of bed and rolled my blanket into a neat sausage and went to wash my face.
What I wouldn't give to spend a few more minutes with you, Cute Boy!
"Ahuvi ha-bore'ach, gam atah harei yode'a.. ani ohev(et) otkha, aval gam et etzmi."
"My fleeing love, even you indeed know.. I love you, but myself too."
-- Ayah Korem in her song Kayitz [Summer].
I told him how I felt about him.. how much I wanted him. He smiled a gorgeous smile that made me wanna kiss him, but I didn't.. 'cause we were surrounded by religious Shi'ite Muslim folks who wouldn't appreciate that sort of love between two men. So I just smiled back at him. We flirted back and forth. Abeer was talking to him too, but he was looking into my eyes and smiling at me. I was looking back and smiling wide.
People in the imambargah were getting visibly irritated by the noise we were making, leaning against the partition and talking loudly like that. So we lowered our voices. After a while, we just left the place. We decided to go to a coffee shop or something.
The scene shifted to a chat window. I was chatting with him on MSN. The background of the window was red. We were talking about perfumes for some reason.
Then I woke up. My dream ended. Bluntly, just like that. The sunlight was pouring in, through my window. The clock was showing 8:25. Beside me, Arjun was curled up under his blanket, still lost in his dreamland. I clicked my lips and tongue in the way that we Indians do when we're annoyed, got out of bed and rolled my blanket into a neat sausage and went to wash my face.
What I wouldn't give to spend a few more minutes with you, Cute Boy!
"Ahuvi ha-bore'ach, gam atah harei yode'a.. ani ohev(et) otkha, aval gam et etzmi."
"My fleeing love, even you indeed know.. I love you, but myself too."
-- Ayah Korem in her song Kayitz [Summer].