"Afar"

Far away

              we are

                         apart;

Behind the miniature snow covered hills

and stand still white rivers

curving into frozen foggy lakes.

(How I liked watching the earth

through the window of the plane

on my first trip alone at six;

I was cheerfully apart

from everything and everyone below)

I see the fine particles of pleasure

dancing in the air

in an euphoric dream.

Like a bunch of lingering drunkards

they keep getting swept away

from a beam of light to the other,

by the poisoning breath of every playful breeze;

swinging in between

appearing/disappearing,

hanging in between being/not being.

Then swirling down in ecstasy,

they slowly let go

of their weightless ghostly bodies.

Falling like snowflakes,

they smoothly settle down

in the last act of their ballet;

the final piece of peace.

I give a few strains

of my long black hairs

to the chilling winds from the whirling heaven above;

dark serpents slide silently on the snow.

I push the sheet aside

and surrender my burning body

to the cool consciousness of the fan.

A chilling breeze sweeps over my body

dives over my breasts

swirls in my armpits

and disappears in my hair.

I feel a soft electrical wave

moving through me

disentangling the veins,

loosening up the muscle fibers

shutting down the very

workaholic anxious cells

of a modern woman's limbs.

This is peace.

I listen carefully

to the soulful chant of the whirling fan

and I hear your heavy breathing.

(A baby has fallen asleep

and his wet lips

letting go of the nipple

on the empty bottle of milk

have fallen apart)

You are long long gone

and it doesn't hurt,

and I'm not missing neither you nor no one else,

and it's all cool,

and I'm joyfully all by myself,

                               afar.

This is peace,

or at least a ceasefire

in the ongoing historic battle between us;

the infamous troublemaking opposites.

And it's bestowed upon us

by two exhausted over-satisfied

over-heated bodies

on a hot summer day in June

with no more intention

to be in touch.

Azin Izadifar

March 2013

San Jose, CA