Aortic heel

That was the first love of my life, for a face I knew no other. Her laughter led me to untangle details, her displeasure led me to connect them, sleeping beside her brought peace to the night, looking at her face in the moments before sleep opened the door to the morning sun, and wherever she was filled my heart with joy. When she ran to the kitchen to turn off the stove, my heart would beat to it, and while sipping tea, I would catch a glimpse of her face through my eyes, leaving them above the rim of the cup. Sometimes, our glances would meet over the rim of the cups as we met for breakfast. I would sip her eyes, and I would pay attention to where she sat. I would either sit next to her and feel my density, or sit opposite her and feel my extension. When someone rang the doorbell and she preceded me to open it, I would not look at the visitor’s face, but at hers when she turned around, as if she were the visitor after a long separation. And I saw that things take their place from her, and are in the middle of her, like night, morning, and noon. From her childhood until she reached thirty-seven, she was still full of feelings and emotions, and the smallest things hurt her, a bad look at her or a word out of place made her feel pain. It was not her habit to rush to cry; she would cry suddenly after several days, as if she was resisting the waters of a dam that had cracks. Until now, Raya still rises above everything my eyes see, like a piece of wood floating on water. She is my happy salvation, like the last dollar in my pocket that is enough for a bus ride that takes me home. That was my first taste of love, a face etched in my memory forever. Her laughter unveiled the intricate details of her soul, and her frowns drew me closer. To slumber beside her was to cradle tranquility through the night, and gazing at her as sleep beckoned opened a door to the morning sun. Her presence filled my heart with pure joy.

When she rushed to the kitchen to silence the hissing gas stove, my heart raced ahead of her, and as I sipped my tea, my eyes would often steal glances at her, tracing the lines of her face with every passing moment. Sometimes, our gazes are intersected as we met over breakfast. Sitting beside her, I felt my being condensed, while across from her, I expanded into a greater self.