Before we continue fucking me, let's stay silent and hope that no one screams outside while we moan and rain. Let no one ask for help without being heard. No one can die while we're fucking. I mean, no one can get hurt without us realizing it. Not even us.
Jose Antonio Luer
Fuck me (Before the dogs bark)
As long as the dogs haven't found my convulsed heart beating on the pavement outside the post office as long as the dogs aren't barking because that's what they call death you can think I'm with you hugging you pulling out of my sternum flocks collecting tombstones from our puffs of foam like if we were the impossible or the last thing left in the volatile wave of ash that unravels the path to dawn.
Why keep changing? I like the garlands you put on the window when you don't look at yourself and walk naked collecting the air. I like you when you turn green and use your fresh eyes as a mirror. When you get embarrassed after the rain. You walk through the green house like a spring child, making things green. I put my ear to the curvature of the ceiling. This green roof. I think I'm in love with this green roof that dies every day. You are a field full of solitudes that are like cotton.
I know that your soul is pain and that does not help me. I accompany it to a certain point. For example, only until the path that the night weaves to the Dawn.
Fuck me like the sun fucks the cornfields.