Shisha

Could the songs be counted as prayers if the singer is honest? If her voice makes us all content; makes us all smile quietly and start serious conversations?

Could the soft laughter, the accidental looks and the yellow light from a struggling fire be counted as a sponteniously deep friendship?

Our hair and clothes are full of smoke, but we don't mind because is apple-flavoured - some of us are sharing the pipe of a shisha in the early hours after midnight. We are unconsciously tired when looking in the fire for answers - our thoughts are demanding but for now we are happy.

I have arabic tea in a mug that someone else chose for me and the stars are above us all, as a reminder that we are tiny.

That we are lucky. That we are in a good place now. That we have each other and we are lights for each other.

As a reminder that we should look up...in the same direction where our apple-flavoured smoke goes..