sex inscribed on body

They . are all habits. We learn to do. Do we learn to love or pretend to know love?

We learn to show the love. The smile, the happiness like a pill swallowed which has fulfilled its purpose.

Funny. What seemed like the fairy.. tale was stupid and cemented, for me not. And what seemed untrue- unreal -undrinkable, unedible is the piece that completes my puzzle.

Yes. The princess is never a happy one in fact. She marries a prince, the one who is meant for her. Those unions of no meaning to those who impose them are those which mean love to me.

That picture or that outing to show we are good and this is how the story is good.Who cares I ask? Most people actually do. Whether yes or no, the truth is anyhow, my world, you.

The beat, the door, has opened in my you, and I
feel apple, feel open to exude you and against
all cracks of uncertainty of hollywood dew.

flex, breathe, flex breathe
and nurture that nature


of love.

The word I am choosing is heterology

Heterology,

When one woman does not correspond to the bag of the other, rather, the beige and brown square pattern of her brain.

When one man chooses silicone roundness over feeling well in one's skin even if it is another's.

The joy is too good, the joy is too bad when you relish in knowing what others do not.

Different origins may be the explanation but what if we had the chance to meet at a point?

The rivers run, the rivers meet, the rivers leave, the rivers carry.

To love in true colours generally is good sometimes too blurry for those purposes of what we call " the material life."

And let those who cannot write write, and let those who should not show her face show.

And hide the beauty in places that protect it. and show it because there are some who can still and will see it.

the words, stupid, will burn with the laptop in some centuries, the papers will wither in dust but the DNA-smart... will keep on going ..keep on loving truly for ever and ever.