Tars * Fear *

 Tars ** Fear

In my home, in my bedroom, in my bed, one in the morning, listening to a Persian singer, the same song for the tenth time. The title is Tars, it means fear. I feel him, I have felt him for days now, even when I said my first no. it’s the cellular change that’s happens when someone starts thinking of you. Let me not speak with words describing emotions, but describing cellular changes, changes in the energetic field around us, when two minds start thinking of each other, attracting each other in the quantum field. This energy comes back and invades your body, and my body has been invaded long before your words were written. I feel you before you speak, before you put down your thoughts into letters and make out of them words and sentences. It is always a risk to describe your truth, but the letters are never enough to make the words we. need to describe feelings. It is like attempting to put the water of the ocean into little silver spoons. I never know why it happens I just sit there and observe the changes, watch my breath changing, my heart beating differently, my dry human existence become full of liquid again, like a sweet fresh fruit. I thought, I really believed, I was already dead, I was already a dry desert, gave up all hope that it will rain ever again, and I made big declarations that I will never care about love any more, I am not a woman anymore, I am switched off entirely and it is ok this way, it is more safe, you don’t fear to feel any pain, if you are already dead.

And then, he came. And I said go away, and he agreed, he fave me back my silence, but a silence so loud I could still hear him. I said to him no, and he turned me no into maybe, maybe this one time, I will out out of my cave. I told to him don’t send me your words, and he agreed, and he send me songs instead. I told him, don’t send me your words, and he agreed, but send me flowers and birds knocking on my window. I told him don’t talk about love and he crawled into my bed and whispered fairytales in my ear. One by one he touched my cells and woke me, and now my eyes are wet, and my dead feels dizzy like there was a sweet drug slowly injected in my veins, and the bombs have silenced, and the world’s wars are distant, and my problems and fears are forgotten, there is only a faraway music in my head, and I sing when I wash the dishes, and I get lost when I watch the sea, and I speak to him , and write him a thousand poems in one afternoon but never found one right word to describe his eyes, my lips are drying at midnight but the water is tasteless, I am thirsty for the taste of sweat and salt, and I never want to see him, ever, I want to pause in this perfect moment of all the lust and passion and desire he awakend inside me, without ever touching me. He never had to, I feel him, from miles away, I can hear the music, I can smell the smoke and taste his tears. He gave me a piece of his soul, and brought back all the colors in life, like a blood donor, who’s blood will save some stranger’s life one day, he revived me. As from today, In my garden there is a tree named love.

Marina Saveriadou

the diaries