I CURSE THOSE CLUMSY FINGERS OF HIS!
BYLINE: QADEEM ZIEMAN My heart rose too high—so high I had to take the stairs down a floor just to steady myself. I filled too many pillows and mattresses with whispered fantasies until even stepping outside felt impossible. And yet my eyes had already captured you—your side profile, quietly rewriting everything: the fantasies, the thoughts, the lingering laughter… and now, the unbothered tears. I suppose the white I wore once meant a beginning. Now the grey I wear feels like grief for something I never truly had. My heart is in tears— a slow, taunting rain pulling me back into reality. But my right hand remembers joy, for it once touched your left shoulder in the humming silver elevator. I spoke a word I can no longer recall. Whoever that man was in that moment— I curse his trembling fingers for daring to touch you, his eyes for daring to meet yours, and his feet for daring to follow after you.
