Do I look younger than my age? You ask.

| December 23, 2013

The abstract

I have to move the line….I know , it is not expected but I am not sure
if the hues will work in these parameters. SHE KNOWS

Yes she has known for a long time and it is her perception of the possibilities that would govern the truth at this point. It has to be more than realization. There has to be acceptance and I don’t know if she has seen this sun before and if she knows this moon. Space can be deceiving, all the particles fly within the reality of denial

Yes, yes I think she does realize that, and she knows where the door is and where the light switch is and the curtains, she knows what pulls them up and yes she knows the windows open and there is a passage, she knows.

We pulled the edges of the day and nailed them in possibilities of a rebellion, a quiet objection yet the day fluid in its notions fled the shadows and there we stood beyond our perception of an hour or duration of minutes, a day as simple as a crossed number on a calendar. a day, and she remembers that day

She wore her hat, so she had to look up and I had to stay back as she found her stride, and I turned a full orbit to see her around me ; my stubborn Jew with her hat and her red eyes, the color of hazel…..We are learning, walking with the same stride and the joy that hangs around us collaborating our moments in time as we giggle like school kids out on mischief on a school day running outside… dreaming of a tent in the desert somewhere out in the soil that guards her truth, her tree as it grabs that sacred soil rooting in.

I wonder if we can leave that desert, that tent….once we stayed the night and she heard those ancient songs, the whispers and yet life belongs where it stays; walking the streets of manhattan with my stubborn jew, me the Muslim poet, holding hands knowing this is where our world begins and stays…..I can see her reading her torah sitting on the floor as I lay with my head in her lap listening with my eyes closed in the dark space of our infinite dreams.

“isn’t it so unexpected that someone you did not know a few month ago suddenly becomes such a dear part of your life” I said , finding my words driving in the night…”it sure is” she said with her voice breaking in those soft intervals of vibration within her soul.

“are you still struggling with this” I asked her, trying to be brave. ” yes I am” she said as her voice faded. “there’s no use, it has its own entity now, I thought you loved new borns” I said. “you are crazy” she chimed half jokingly half serious, all denial. “That logic does not take you anywhere , you know that”, I suggested, ……..”I will find you in the streets and we walk far…as we planned ” she said

I wonder how vast that desert would be and how small our tent. I wish we could sleep outside, watching the stars, remember the cloud i showed you as it was fleeting the manhattan sky rushed by the currents of the air. The day registers in me, or i should say sips through me and what stands out is you singing, holding that large pillow dancing with your eyes shining in pure joy of the moment and all the clarity that at that moment had found you , so you knew, nothing mattered but what we had seen together and felt between the etiquette of two souls that will always be walking the streets of manhattan as they live in a tent in Rabbolkhali , the empty quarter of a desert
devastatingly quiet in its truth.

“do I look young for my age”. I looked at you asking me right there in the cold with your hat covering you so I could mainly see your eyes through your hair and your red nose, I did not say, I just looked at you. I like to see you when you are thirty I said once, why thirty you asked…Thirty is when you walk inside your body full grown in all your feminine whims and desires. How old are you , you sked for the first time, I did not say a word, I was exposed already with my jacket open in the cold. I said well, lets add the numbers, and together we reasoned my age. That is what I thought , you said satisfied by the answer you got.
You would come to see me, with your beautiful convertible and will take me for a ride. I said. you stopped me, Don’t be foolish, you said
you have to dramatize everything. You would pick me up and we find parking and walk in the cold to find the french restaurant where we feel warm and comfortable.Yes, I said I like that, you talk french which makes your face open and you sound so charming with that accent. “you can not seduce anyone in the cold, you tell me. and i smile turning my head down . I mimic your accent and soon we are both satisfied, the student and the teacher.

I will leave the lines alone, you catch me in my discovery and smile, your knowing smile…….you have to trust this Javad. you say. Me ? I ask, how about you?. I am a woman you say raising your left eyebrow, i always hear the music…..I try to reach for your fingers as we walk … the camera find us from behind as our fingers touch still talking, walking toward Balthazar. Do I look younger than my age, are you going to answer that, you ask. No, I say with a smile on my face. do you remember how my heart beat once we got upstairs, i ask. Vaguely, you coo.