Poetic Movements

Few days ago I joined a yoga nidra class a friend had suggested. Lying on the floor, eyes closed, listening to the instructor’s guidance and r eaching deeper and deeper into consciousness, the body is supposed to fall in an asleep state. I have practised yoga nidra few times before, but this time my body didn’t exactly respond as previously . Instead, motionless on the floor, I started feeling my thumbs locking, my knees aching and my ankles heavier than all the luggage I have carried thus far across places. I was meditating, but at the same time I was also fully aware of my body’s tensions; sort of a dual awareness. I realised that it wasn’t just me reconnecting with my consciousness down there. M y body was also seizing the chance to reconnect with me, finally grasping my attention to show me all the things I had to take care of but was for long ignoring. Awaken afterwards, I was inevitably conscious of all the aching muscles in my body and immensely grateful. I brea...

Afterwords undersurfaced talked through hard-breathed bubbles; whose water is this that I am moving under tonight again? Limbs light lighter than my very soul if I suppose to have a soul or some piece of it still dry still hanging from some steady surface. I’ll fight with the bitterness slipping underneath my tongue the bitterness resembling coffee aftertaste when overdosed in the morning cup the bitterness that in reality is a first taste of death. November 2019, Athens.

We were swimming next to the hot springs, but the sea was cold. The starry sky above us seemed ready to crack in the middle, throwing all possible parts of the galaxy right in the sea. I thought that there was definitely something wrong with this picture. But you did not seem to notice, so I just dived in again. The depths of the sea were warmer. Once I got back on the surface I saw you laying on the water as if it were your bed, staring at the heavens – as if there were heavens. And then, taking me by surprise, the skies collapsed; starry bits falling in the sea lighting up the dark waters, thick black patches of matter following behind only to take the light off, starting over and over again. We ran to the shore and clenched onto the sharp rocks, but it was too late. Now I had to tell you about all this. A dark patch fell from the sky right in my guts and devoured me. The edged rocks scratched my skin and only then you turned and asked: “ Why didn’t you say...