Rinat Valiullin. Each silence has its own hysteria (№ 182729)

I fell in love with your hands before you touched me. He watched as they calmly held the steering wheel when you were driving, how confident butchered meat, when you cook a roast, how gentle were waist cigarette, which seemed to glow red by itself from their passion. Strong, full of rivers of veins, these men's hands. And when I imagined that the river would flow through my body, I felt uncomfortable, so insanely good that hundreds of ants immediately ran to ask: "What happened?"