Whisper

by Tal Bauer

My love, I stitched little Behroze’s arm today. He makes me think of what you must have been like as a child. Always impetuous, never listening. Always trying to have fun and go his own way. He will leave these mountains when he grows up. I can feel it. I dreamed about you again. The same dream, the one I always have. Your smile. Your happiness. Ya rouhi, I hope you are happy. Somehow, somewhere. I pray to Allah that you are happy, with every one of my prayers. Your name is always on my lips. Your soul is always in my heart. There is not a moment that passes where I do not think of you. You are the moon that rose in my darkness, ya rouhi. And I know that I will see you again, my love. I know it, in my soul. The moon took his words silently every night. Somewhere, Kris was beneath that same moon. Alive or dead, in this life or the next. They saw the same moon every night, and he imagined it was their one connection, a tether that ran from his heart to Kris’s, circling around the moon. I will see you again.