Na insónia perdemos de vista não só a cadeira e a mesa mas o que se poderia dizer acerca. Vejam entretanto como o corpo principia a levitar, como o corpo é já a serpente, e a verdadeira serpente morre da mordedura que dá no corpo. É alguma coisa, caramba!
Herberto Helder, Photomaton & Vox
Sleeping makes every countenance that of a child. Tender, oblivious, annoyed. That must be why people call them peaceful, precluding any sort of action. A perfect prey never to be preyed upon. It even makes one question whether evil can actually befall someone. But tricks of the mind, reasoning, could never blind me to what so conspicuously crowed from him, from each and every pore of his tainted skin.
— Hey, I have something to ask you.
— Yes.
— Do you remember what I told you the other night about, well, you know...
— I don't follow.
— About that dream!
— Uh. So what?
— I wanna do it now.
A refusal was improbable, but the shock of the instant wrinkles around his barely awaked eyes could count as anything but hesitation. Just beside them, hidden, lurked an evanescent pure gaze — clarity and certainty — that was all he'd become for a moment. All I’d become.
I turned on the lights. Some instinctual dread within that room must have felt the fervid darkness we were looking for, that irretrievable abyss looming on the first word. Urworte. As he started to thrust his hands into me, dry skin against a damp soil, the light around us was the imaginary lucidity I hung onto, the last fragment of what so naïvely I've been calling life.
Alas, how I wish for the power to make a sensation of the hundred nails that pierced the very fabric of my body. To talk about how my inside out laughed as my most inner flesh was shredded. Or even to elaborate on the revelry of each molecule residing in me in its quest for a way out.
How I wish I hadn’t asked for more.
For he must have felt it was coming. Removed as one can be, when time becomes so ubiquitous, heavy and deep so as to disappear, when the no-longer and not-yet we've been living in between collapses into a single point, it becomes impossible to ignore the arrival of what just now I see it has to be called present.
I didn’t have much time to think before thinking dissolved into an ink marring his blood, my blood now, a tint visible only by gods, an immediate call on edenic forces to seal the sin. In a sudden movement, I had only the sweep of a moment to hear the writhing pain of breaking bones when my body assumed the monstrous form of a primeval beast. Were those horns, antlers, thorns, twigs perforating a dawning amorphous mass of inane matter? The hard fibers of the beastly new muscles were a phanerozoic pressure constricting his hands down to their bones, making One of our multiplicity. Within the stark meat of our entrails, She started to spread, slithering toward the outside to unite us once and for all — the ouroboros.
Lo, infinity! Why do you taste like the nothingness of a unity? I shared your demonic pleasure, drunk from your lips a drop of endlessness: have mercy on him who bathed in the elixir of the madman.
A push was all it took to make me land, panting, on our bed.
— Did you like it?