Stroy

Shagayegh is asleep. The first orange light of dawn pierced the semi-transparent curtain and made her naked body radiant. Light waves playing thick-carbon hair on his neck and forehead. I am looking at it with fascinated eyes and the melody of a song is making waves inside my head, the thick kuntal-weight is bowed on the forehead, the tired electric-bride is drowsy. The gondola of my sight flowed up to the estuary with the currents of his body. Her breasts are as white as conch shells, like a pair of lotuses blooming on a clay body. To his south, from the bottom of the navel, his lean legs have descended to the great infinity. Shagayegh's eyebrows suddenly trembled slightly, perhaps in the depths of a dream. Light smile on her thin lips. I whispered in Shagayegh's ear, 'Dustet daram', meaning I love you.

I was deprived of the blue-gray glow of Shagayegh's eyes because I was asleep. Where did he get the light from the heartbreaking eyes that I asked him for? He said in a shy voice that there is a city in the north of Iran called Tabriz. Another country bordering that city is Azerbaijan. Many of Tabriz are like him and a pleasant combination of Azerbaijani and Persian.

The love of men and women most of the time creates an oddity. Body and mind. Sometimes love is eighty percent body, twenty percent mind and sometimes twenty percent body, eighty percent mind. The thing is that we are tempted by one person for the body, another person for the mind. With the half-satisfaction of the mind or the body, our immature couple's life rushes towards eternity. But my reunion with Shagayegh was supernatural. Just as the rays of the sun reflected through the fiery glass can condense at a point and catch fire, so our bodies were fiery glass, our minds were the rays of the sun and our pleasures were Dau Dau Agni-Utsav.