This is the door. I knock and it opens. My heart doesn’t tremble, yet it does decide. I connect to this new world, which I formerly dreamt of. I still remember the dream. Just as it happens now, I’m going through the tiny hallway. The eye observes another heart. In fact, the eye is just envisioning it.

A cat is looking up from somewhere. A wonderful choir winces inside of my heart. And, all of a sudden, the vertigo carries me away, and I am imprinting my bare feet in small shaman-like steps towards the kitchen. The door is tall. I remember it well hence I have been here (countless times before), in moments that are estranged to me now.

I haven’t been myself for three days onwards. “Ah, Mercury is in Retrograde”, I’m politely self-pretencing. It’s more than that, it’s bizarre, it’s ridiculous, it’s hilarious.

I haven’t been eating for two weeks onwards. I didn’t get sick, summer came and I’m not charging my solar plexus with anything. I let it be, I let it utter it to me, I let it pass fluidly as a salient tempest. As the one that occurred on Wednesday, a show of lights and beats in the drums of the night’s clouds. “Ah, Mercury is in Retrograde”, I shyly remind myself. “Full moon”.

I sit at the table. It is not my place; it belongs to the heart filled with charms which has welcomed me in an instant. It doesn’t say anything, it lets me stay, and I receive the gesture in one breath of a lung. Water is being poured in a glass.

I let my heart be charmed with stories. Self-conscious words, path-knowing words, are subtly creeping in ancient secrets. I freeze for a second, amidst my ears, and all I see breaks apart in odd waves. I enter certain states of being, strongly welded through cigarette smoke, and almost quiet and soft thoughts. It’s as if the vertigo is heftier in carrying me away.

The atmosphere is in some sort of an odd slime, which I breathe in and out and back again. The charms-filled heart speaks, yet mine is quiet, it embraces. Nothing is opaque anymore; I jump at the slender strands of reality. My center doesn’t belong to me anymore, it is ours. Spherical sensations are now splattering blue all around the kitchen.

All of a sudden, the eye darkens. My solar plexus is hollow. It smells like something, like a familiar something; I know precisely what it is.

Pragmatism and dreaminess – are flowing towards the palms through an entwined embracement, as two hair strands. I know who she is. It is the heart with charms, the heart who has charmed me before, a long time ago; back in the days when profound initiations have taken place there, amongst the rocks of the mountains.

I know who she is.

I already feel it, how mute whispers are slipping through along with what is being said.

I know who she is.

Apparently I got tired, watching the once known obscure. My head feels heavy now; my solar plexus takes in the weight of the second. I greet with my head, using the moves of a shaman, and I shove away the smoke to pass through. I get out of the kitchen, returning through the tiny hallway, towards the tall door, and, the last step punctures the inside of my chest.

I know who she is. The vertigo is steering me. I know who she is. The memory drags me along.

Just a few comprehensive moments have passed.

translated by Alexandra Răcășan