“The last eight times I told you I loved you, they sounded like apologies.”
“I now know that some people feel unhappiness the way others love: privately, intensely, and without recourse.”
“But love that word … Moralist Horace, fearful passions without a reason for deep waters, confused and sullen in the city where love is called with the names of all streets, all the houses of all floors of all rooms, all beds, all the dreams of all forgetfulness or memory. My love, I do not want for you or me or both together, I do not want my blood because the call to love, I love you because you’re not mine, because you’re the other side, where you invite me to jump and I can not leap, because in the depths of the possession you’re not me, it’ll catch up, no step of your body, your laughter, there are times that haunts me you love me (how you like using the word love, with what are you going dropping kitsch on plates and sheets and buses), haunts me you love me no bridges because a bridge does not stand on one side (…) Of course you will be cured, because you live in health, after me will be any, that changes as the bodices. So sad to hear Horacio cynic who wants a passport love, love, masks, key love, love gun, love to give you the thousand eyes of Argos, the ubiquity, the silence from which the music is possible, the root from where it could start weaving a language. It is silly because all that you get some sleep in, there would only be immersed in a glass of water like a Japanese flower and slowly begin to sprout colored petals, would swell the warped ways, the beauty grow. Giver of infinity, I do not know to take, forgive me. You’re reaching an apple and I have left the teeth on the nightstand. Stop, you’re fine. I can also be rude, mind you. But mind you, because it is free. Why stop? For fear of starting the fabrication, so easy. Do you get an idea there, a feeling of another shelf, bound with the aid of words, black dogs, and it turns out I love you. Subtotal: I love you. Total general: I love you. (…)
As if you could choose love, as if it were a beam that breaks your bones and leaves you staked in the middle of the courtyard.”
