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Like a compass needle that points north, a man’s accusing finger always finds a woman.
A man’s heart is a wretched, wretched thing, Mariam. It isn’t like a mother’s womb. It won’t bleed, it won’t stretch to make room for you.
“You know.� “Know what?� “That I only have eyes for you.�
“I’ll follow you to the end of the world, Laila.�
But, mostly, Mariam is in Laila’s own heart, where she shines with the bursting radiance of a thousand suns.
