-
I) The walk
-----------
...Walking over the alms of this paving stone, i go such a dead.
Once upon a time: everything was denied: the enigma lies on the altars of the mystery.
It must be something i did wrong.
On the wings of a dead dream* my steps echo empty across the humid brick walls in hollow ricochets, the pain it's so intense that i can't feel it.
Is just an acute, surd point of anguish stuck in my soul...i go being swallowed slowly by the shadows...
II) The fall
----------
...Where i'm? Do i exist yet? Who i am?
I feel my blood is dry this cellophane night and forever.
Forever; forever.
Forever is a long-long time for a broken spirit to bear.
...Where's our God of love this night?
Maybe he's a puma of love...**
Maybe he's this child, and his navel spreads bread to the world. A world without love.
God of love, all tenderness: where are you..?
III) ...One night...
-----------------
One night i had a plan. A plan.
The most decadent, sinister and eternal of the nights.
A plan.
I still remember that night without shades. Blackest than the cunt of the death. A plan of death.
Now i'm dead.
IV) Fractured life
----------------
One day of my light, i found a daylight.
It was sweet to me, and i tried to reach it.
My daylight was growing inside of me, in my fractured midday...and i loved it...
My nights and days were lit by this fragile creature, but i started to see somethin' occult.
Something painfully mysterious in its smiles...
V) The punishment
-----------------
Such criminals statues on the run, my days escaped from me.
In outbursts of rain, i gave birth a monster who was devouring myself: this immense ruthless web that is never seen, it was prepared for me, and only i fell in it; nobody else.
VI) The chains don't lie
----------------------
I was another stray dog for a sun hangin' by harness, its red glow projected my long shadow, such a Delacroix of my body stretched in horror.
I followed my own shadow till the fork of trains.
I found graffitis of the fury, and i felt lost.
The gnarled pendulum of the hours never stops: hit by hit i turned off all the lights...
I found no peace, just a water-bottle all spittle.
For the hours when i was...
Cruel.
VII) Meaningless life/into the void
--------------------------------
Then.
Like a ventriloquist of myself, such a scrawny, tattooed dancer of buried zeniths and a wolf in the breath; the brawn of despair made me shatter my cursed, antique skin away.
In a butcher's smile this ancient skin, ancient skin.
If i were alive, maybe i'd have a jump to be completed.
A jump of black tin burning from a sweaty, tenebricose myself.
A jump of one in a million.
...If you can see my eyes become gilt quartz, they will tell you that regardless empires, boots; walls and bridges, death, life and this cold of today, i'm a fractured jet propulsor without you.
But i'm dead, and nothing is possible to me now...
*"Book of the dead ones" (J.J. Cornell)
** From a graffiti seen one night on a wall in Buenos Aires.
-
