X-Ray

Without a chador, naked, I lie down on the table. The camera’s eye looks at me with the unknown wave of its gaze. From my forehead to the nail of my big toe it takes my picture. I see my image - what I am, without a chador, without a robe, without the headscarf on my head - I see myself: a red, throbbing spring fluid, fluid drawn by an invisible pull, flowing toward the heart the living heart! I am these very fevered waves. The way that every night, every day, without knowing you are seeing you see me: you hear the soft beat of my footsteps in sleep and in waking: a fluid red wave, running toward your arms barefoot, naked, without a chador: hot, boiling blood involuntarily toward the heart ...