Eléni & M Move to Athens - Part 35

This new series has its history in the form of several short stories, several poems, and a 13-part series that is linked at the bottom via Part 34 of this series. Anthi Psomiadou has agreed, I forget when, to play the role of a fictional character also called, Anthi, starting in the first series, but with the name, Anthi Kanéna, in this 100-part series (or more), which she chose herself to convey a more elemental meaning. O Anthi! “Yes, M!” When will it end? “You already know the answer, M.” But I want you to spell it out, Anthi. Is it too much to ask?

The stars shine in my brain; ideas, [wo]men, animals, [trees] browse in my temporal head; songs and weeping fill the twisted shells of my ears and storm the air for a moment. Nikos Kazantzakis

It was the best feast I had ever had, but it was surely not because of the food, which was heavenly, nonetheless. I was sitting to the right of my Anthi, holding her hand under the table just in case our union was not yet official for everyone present and celebrating. Anthi could feel my heartbeats through my happy hand, stronger than before, now that I had a soul once more, on loan. I am supposed to try it out for twelve days and twelve nights, and I am already annoyed by it after a few hours. My heart may feel stronger, but I feel weaker. My soul is overrated. I need both Anthi and my body to live. I do not need my soul. She can have it back. I cannot wait until these dozen eggs, I mean days, break. I said it before and I will say it again, I do not care what happens after I am dead. I only care about the present, the now when I can hold my Anthi and feel all her body as I lose myself in her marvellousness. It is the body that is beautiful, not the soul. Art in its entirety depicts the body. How can it depict something never seen before? I could go further but I will stop here. What would be the point to write about something so ephemeral, no matter if it may live somewhere on a different level or sphere of interference? I am touching Anthi’s body, which she may feel in her soul, though she feels it through her five senses in her beautiful brain, which I wish I could also kiss if it were not so fragile and protected by drop-dead bone.

Anthi is both my sky and my sea. She is everything that is blue. I wonder if the soul is blue or colourless. Even this little attribute is unknown. Perhaps it is green like a tree or white like a cloud in June or July. It would not change how I felt about it. It is Anthi whom I love beyond measure, every centimetre of her skin, from below the hair on her I-love-you head to the soles of her feet; all that is my Anthi and everything that is within. I wanted to disappear under the table and begin the real feast, the only banquet that counts in any worthwhile dream. I do not dream of beef or cauliflower; I dream of her breasts, ass, and pussy. I dream of her lips kissing mine and refusing to let go. I dream of her tongue. I dream of her tongue when it moves to a silent jazz. I dream of her honey eyes. Those so-called mirrors of the soul. I only see my love for her in her eyes and her love for me. I only see the sea and the sky. I only perceive shining stars. I love her toes and always feel the need to count them. I do not count her fingers, but I always count her toes, from left to right and vice versa. I always get to ten and yet I want to count them again. It is reassuring to see them, since if I can see them, all the rest of her magnificence is above them, and I am at her base, at her feet, which hold her and tell me that she is real. Anthi is real. She may be the only real character in this story. I am holding her hand. I can feel her warmth. I can feel her love. I know that I will make love to her tonight both for real and in our dream. Reality may win every time, but here, we have surpassed it. We have intertwined it with fiction. We will become one in every sense. No more Anthi or M; only Anthi-M. I love you, my Anthi, I whispered in her mind.

“I love you too, my M, my soul,” Anthi replied.

I am her soul. She was happy with my soul in her heart, so I will return it to her in less than twelve days and nights. I want my Anthi to have two souls. I want her to have a spare. We never know what the future holds. There is only now. There is only Anthi, my love and my life. I want you, my Anthi, and we do not have to wait for the Moon or the night anymore. I want you more than I want life.

“I know, mon amour (my love). I want you too. I want you to take me to the heart of the Sun. I want to glow both on top and below you. I want to become part of you, inseparable. You make me feel loved for what I am, not for what I am supposed to be. You love every part of me. And I love it when you count my toes, pulling gently on them, as if making sure that they are real. I never thought that love could be so physical, so tactile. You even find places on my body that I never felt had existed. I feel my body more than ever. I love you with all my being. I know that you want me to have your soul, and I know the why as well. I just want you to try it out, in case you do begin to appreciate its existence. I feel mine and I want you to feel yours. Please, do it for me. Is that too much to ask?” my Anthi beseeched.

I will do anything for you, my Anthi, and this too. I have moved from where I was before to Greece, and I would even move to Mars if you were with me, though we would miss the sky and the sea and the trees. At least we could see Earth if we ever moved to the Moon. But we will never leave Greece, where the olive trees speak with their leaves, and birds fall in love with you as well. I think that I was in love with you as soon as Eléni had showed me a photo of your grace. When I saw you, I had a déjà-vu. You were already imprinted in me, in some primordial gene that has nothing to do with my parents. Some genes go back millions of years; some even billions. I sensed that we needed to be together to fully realize it. Did you feel it too, my Anthi?

“When I saw you first, I understood why Eléni loved you. But my love for her stopped me from seeing anything beyond an appreciation of who you were. It is under that olive tree that I felt you, especially when you looked at me, caressing me with your eyes. You did not understand what I was saying over the phone, trying to arrange our trip to Crete, yet you listened to my words as if you were trying to absorb them. We smiled at each other a few times, and I saw sparks in your eyes. You were also looking at my toes. Did you start counting them, then, my M?” my Anthi asked, smiling in our minds.

Perhaps, or I was simply admiring their beautiful arrangement from big toe to little one; a perfect slope of lovely toes that only announced the rest of your loveliness. My wooden heart was already starting to fissure, getting ready to contain your expanse within my being. Athena had already begun to show us the path to our light. I needed to look at you to feel better, and I missed you terribly when you were away and back to your main life. Had I known about Delphine and what she revealed about your husband, I would never have waited. Luckily for our hearts, the delay was not very long, and we had our dreams in the past few days to quench our thirst. Athena had helped us again.

We were festive on every side of the table. Grandpa was pleased that all his olives disappeared. Grandma enjoyed all the compliments for her succulent dishes. Athena’s meats were devoured in less than an hour. Patrick’s salad became a thing of the past. Eléni’s almond bread was a perfect base for every bite. The roasted cauliflower raised only positive appraisals. Tsipouro and red wine filled our hearts with mirth and merriment. And the two waves that we were before, began to merge like in the photo above. We were becoming a family more in spirit than in blood, which to me always felt like the ultimate bond.

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Thank you, Anthi Psomiadou, for having become a protuberance in my brain via your beautiful and poignant, kind and supportive words. I sometimes think that I will run out of words of praise, but they keep flowing in my Nous and getting stronger. I do not wonder, why, any longer. I know, why. You know, why. Nous savons, pourquoi (We know, why). Do we know, why, Anthi? Do we have a clue?

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