Meeting

In every passing, from every alley, now and past, we have come to meet each other — like extended lines at the point of intersection — at the place of meeting, we have mingled: gaze and gaze breathing body and body with all the living pores: skin and skin. Now and future we come to meet each other: at the same time as each other, or at separate times. On the line of time, our being remains and the beats of our veins remain with the thousands of red roses of a garden in the cage of our chest that has blossomed free, without the fence of barbed wire; with thousands of Farvardins hidden behind the folded curtains of our eyelids and foreheads... Now and future in every passing through every alley we come to meet each other we mingle together — anywhere in this city — at the place of meeting, at the place of a point: the point of beginning after the end; even though I may be dead now...