Chapter Seventeen
Our love-ins after the revolution had broken out differed from those before it. Not just because they united two people with one goal: bringing down the most miserable, corrupt regime Yemen had ever known. (Hawiya and I both trembled with the same revolutionary dream.) The revolution unleashed boundless new energies within us, and we realised, finally, that life had a purpose we had long waited to discover.
Our love-ins after the revolution had a different, unique sensuality to them, one I can hardly describe.
Sex was different, as if we were coming together for the first time. Joined bodies, tears.
‘I missed you like I’ve never missed you before, wahji,’ I told her.
‘I missed you more habibi. You were gone so long this time.’
‘I was with you in every moment, qalbi.
