love spoke with an incomprehensible voice in manic days. we were looking for the soul of words, from one rhythm to another, no nuance no desire to escape this passion for dreams on repeat. my name is Carmen, I told him, you came to light me up like the morning that has never seen torches nor sobs. I'll write as long as the words hold me. Contaminated minds in humid bodies, I felt my fluid fingers maddened by je ne sais qua. I couldn't find my emptiness, you couldn't find thoughts any more in the tunnel of yearning, it kept descending into the desire of the earth, it ravished us. I don't want to get out of mind but I would go to the sea of green, was it in the palm of your hand? I'll turn into a cradle for the illusion of eyelids. I didn't have eyelids anymore, just two burnt eyes, the darkness that dug into them, that darkness that blinded you, called you, squeezed you till you turned into ink. I'd like to spell the word desire like a mantra, may it forgive me until it forgets me, until I howl and then fall silent. I shut up as a field. I'm writing about too much aliveness, purple in the pleasure of pain. I keep reaping the grain of wheat, I have no helpers like the hero in the story. pain contaminated the tablecloth. I didn't hide my desires in the orchids, but let them smile. we talked about ourselves as if we didn't know. we were our new selves, our old selves. it was us all over in the abyss of mind as if it didn't hurt in the morning. I wanted to give myself to you. I am pierced by words, I can't stop them, they flow from the eardrum of the mind to the marrow of my bones or the other way round. The stories of the lymph, I listened patiently. Maybe today is yesterday and tomorrow is the day after. I've forgotten the alphabet of time. What do words actually know? Love is the mercy of time passing by, leaving us untouched, now I know.
