Welcome! My mountains are shattered
look at your kisses stuffed in the gallery
welcome to the map of my horizons
your nakedness your laughter pour down on me
welcome to my pocket
where I keep verses, wisps of echoes
of your bodies
welcome to my ashtray of hopes
where your stem pours its bitter blood
and I pay for your hugs with deaf pagan prayers
welcome to this garden of houseleeks
locked in his steam cage
arrive with golden trays
as he hides in the corner and moans
I heard your rain voice
on my paper streets
and all I could do was smile
while the ink dripped
blackening my heavy feet.
In our conversation, we pretended
the casual existed in a wall of salt.
I kissed the salt and here I am with thirst,
tense, muddy in my absurd size.
Stay with me while I dissolve
with tears, saliva, sweat,
our painful distance.
The salt wall closes
and the paper man walks away
into a new vastness.
I breathe in trash, whatever is foreign.
and long for the courage
to turn this paper into fire,
to witness my world ablaze
but there’s no fire in my hands.
Incapable of burning,
castrated for the igneous,
another other light surrounds me.