And God, before the invention of air,
came to a breaking point,
being One and lonelier than ever,
burning as a thousand suns
waiting to be crashed like beads,
shaken by the idea of
other celestial bodies,
— apples heavy,
sweet berries —
Sighs suddenly
filled his mouth.
One, One, One,
screamed God,
having no elsewhere,
and the word split
his lips, unwinding the world
like a ball of wool
in the shadow
of his voice.
There was finally something
shaped with his joy
— or was it his pain ?
as an ingredient.
Something separate
and indivisible
that He called,
inspired by a french movie,
“a Man and a Woman”.
Pierced afresh by
God’s cry,
they wanted only to be
One, pretending each day
more and more
One, almost
killing each other
for the love of these three
letters.
In their constant failure,
under the velvet of their tongues,
God felt a pleasure
without end.
His own, his own,
his own agony,
— his unique wound
was gone.
Of course,
it was a tragedy,
but the lightest word,
the tiniest sheen of ink
now refracted
all the colors of the dark.

Advertisements