The nigth and the candle

You hid from the soul what your body desired.

You are something and then not; you don’t know what you want or have base certainties.

You only like the rotten, the bitter, the sour, for only these bring to you the sweetness of fear, the fear of living, which is life.

You do not take pleasure in the subtle, the easy, the common; you see that they bring you no joy.

Life is the moment between jumping from the bridge and putting your feet in the water; it’s the cold in your stomach and the blood in your wound.

It is neither your smooth skin nor scarred; you are the same hurt, with sweat and salt to taste, well altered by the must.

It is to delight in waiting for the day to reveal just so you can see the night and the candle, the night the candle.