the most dangerous of smells

 After two weeks of making myself sweat through the night, i am loading the washing machine. Against my better judgement. Fevers from the past were never cured that easily. After two weeks, however, the sweather in question stoped resembling him. It was all my smell and no scent of a hug at all. I washed my hair multiple times and still felt the right hand moving the hairs while drying them, just before preparing the tea. I close my eyes with a bit of regret, as the machine starts spinning at the speed of no return. A dress that got soaked that evening dried up and became stiff, almost brittle. I'll wait a few days before washing it. I'll look at it for few more mornings. Ill let it evaporate into the room. It still has few specles of the tree bark that landed on a red fabric from the leaves above us. He said it's been a while he's seen such a strong rain and it seems i always bring heavy clouds with me. I said i've never seen this kind of storm nor experienced it on my own skin and immediately regreted it as if saying this out loud finally materialised all the memories that clasify as "once in a lifetime". The thunder bacame louder and he set out to try to explain what it reminded him of. "It's like sky just woke up and needed a stretch-it's not angry, it's just waking up after a long time" is what he came up with after few minutes he spent absent from the physical t place (in the mud and near the river) and deep in search for the right words while i observed his face and bit my lower lip. I prayed he would never ever mention this hour we spent under a tree, us two and a lonely snail. Don't say it. Don't ever mention how you wiped that acid water full of smog and all the dust of the city off my face. Say it and it will disappear forever. I do want to keep talking  about things i can actually digest without losing blood flow in my lower body: i want to discuss the smell of the tea he prepared after i started shaking and my lips turned blue that night. It smelled like sage. I searched the plant everywhere. I came to the conclusion that sage should be banned. All domestic growing forbidden. Expelled. For, touching the felt-like leaves will once again scar your fingers and for a person with low iron levels, it might be even lethal. 

Rain, Abbas Kiarostami