Every day we go through the motions:
We wake up -
I stay in bed a few extra minutes,
You make coffee but don’t drink it.
We eat, kiss goodbye, lock our door.
We use public transportation,
stuck between sticky strangers.
We sit at desks and watch the clock;
we inhale impatience and exhale procrastination.
We come home.
We break bread.
We make tea.
We watch the news.
We make wudu.
We make salah.
We make love.
We shower (together or separate - depending on the temperature).
You take off your shorts,
I put on pajamas.
We go about our days, separate but united, interacting with others along our path, but in the dusk, when we lay in bed together we stare into each others eyes, recount the hours, minutes, seconds without each other. I laugh at your stupid jokes. You smile and hold my hand. We merge our roads through kisses and bridges and love.
It’s in these tiny recesses of space I realize that my hope for life stems from you.
Our lives are not religion;
but through our rituals,
I come closer to understanding God.
