** **the thick moon lighting up our lies no one here wants to hurt anyone stone keychains bringing good luck god wrote about it when we were kids.

who was born first? who wrote the first line of this story?

like mages who got the chance to create the unimaginable the keys that open the doors of perception illuminating everything.

you offering us a sabbat and me feeling the beauty that it carries centrifuged lines from the weight of a heredity the non-temporal time not to do to enter.

I imagine you praying knees on the wicker floor I wanted to meet your mother know what meat you came from what kind of thoughts she thought.

now we are bridges of light orphans who need to be born. I don't even mind giving birth to myself as I've done so much I noticed that the weight passed when crossing the street I remembered that I have no more need for death I just hope she comes in its own naturalness.

that's why I created a ceramic in honor of the ferns that I've been hoping to remind me of what i was and what was killed for the sin of existing while being different.

now there's nothing left plus a circle in the center of the room bringing us hope.

I want to put a picture of christ on top of the piano I don't need to imagine us smiling because the teeth are already showing.

I would like to learn a less christian prayer so I can see you dance I even thought about inviting you to sunday mass but I was afraid it might seem an affront; there is something naive and safe in this communion and I don't want to be the one to destroy it.

the purity that walks with the purging of the flesh and the opening of the heart. the genuine delivery that takes place when two strangers decide to love each other and trust.

I was afraid of you of almond eyes that seem to know more than they can say in words of the huge heart that you try to hide behind the cigarette smoke.

I wonder what do you do in the dark? are you afraid too? what do i do to you?

your jaguar walk the light that emanates when your fingers move and create words.

has something distinct in the fabrication of its own existence the mystery that surrounds our own hearts.

I was born first but we were born together identical made from the same egg of the same flesh in different wombs.

we met in a time lapse almost a lifetime after the moment we were conceived shambling indigestible anxious.

I have you in me a brotherhood in genesis something new that is built from the taste of the abyss now everything is in order even with the house destroyed we smell the new.

a kind of union that is barely expressed in words felt in the exchange of glances that silence allows.