‘love is less never than alive’

In the town, seeing was limited, and the lovers never opened their eyes.

In an attempt to get people to focus on the essential and also to appease the blind, the mayor has decided to limit the time to stay with your eyes open - allotting each person one hour to open their eyes, per day. Early every morning, people come out of their houses and walk with a white cane down the street. While most of the rich have guide dogs, she and I always walk arm in arm. When she stumbles, I hold her tight and hear her smile. I learned to hear her. We walk until we reach the main street, stop for a moment on the sidewalk in front of her workplace, and then we kiss. When we kiss, we are as blind as any other lover in any other town.

At work, in my barbershop, I do haircuts blindfolded. And when someone knocks on the door, I open it without opening my eyes. And instead of writing, I record my poetry. During the day I always miss her and sometimes the days last for months and the months last for oceans. But generally, I think I am adjusting well to the new law.

In the evening, I run home. I have nothing to spend but time on her. And I want to sing her all the songs she makes me dream of. And light comes and goes and comes again, and everything with my eyes closed for all I want it to see her.

I enter the door, kiss her and proudly say I still have my sixty minutes to admire her. When I open my eyes, I see hers closed - and I know she has used up all her time looking at somebody else. So I sit, looking at her, memorizing each and every corner of her face - and for 60 minutes I love more, and for 60 minutes I inhale everything I need to survive the next day. After that, I just sit alone and cry the whole night with my eyes closed.