I do have a voracious hunger for the surprise, so mostly I starve. The lines on my logbook like the slant slopes, the vertigo, the frenetic rhythm and the adrenaline injection so they cry when the cardiogram flattens. Whenever the ladybird reminds which mission was entrusted with and couldn’t complete, there it comes, the stinging vision. It feels like a sharpen lance in flames, flying from outer space, one moment there, out of your planet limits, the second after, already gone. Was it here? What did really happen? Does anybody know how I got this hole in the middle of my chest? I am not bleeding, I am wearing a garnet satin dress with a long train and it just spreads as I walk. It is like a lake, wide enough to cover the region, it is me. It was so sudden… Yes, like I like them. Wasn’t I complaining? The boredom took the liberty of following my ramblings to the letter. I got something in between my fingers; my nails are also dark red, filled with some remaining matter. I was one with a comet for a millisecond, we were married and lived in harmony. But sometimes I do the opposite, I fly from the heaven heights to melt with some earthly creature, and in my journey I step on stones calling me, and they scratch me, trying to grab that bodiless essence. There I go, landing high speed on a sand paper, leaving to the others some food so they don’t perish. I have a taste for taking a reference on the astonishment to put a rib on the flesh of the needy. Either way, both are good chances to taste the notes that a brief suddenly can embellish the world with. B_Nour
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