I LICK IT OFF THE TILES

prologue: the Greek sage reeked heavenly,
with earth’s spine beneath me
(as Virginia had said it; Orlando had felt it)
I stomped mountains at dusk,
yellow streets at dawn
read Rimbaud together with the big, old snake of the lavender gardens

nights played like high fevers,
as I worked my way through Spanish mountains...
staring all day at an endless sun and also at Paco (not endless,
my neighbour)

DIARY, 2017 — 2019
 

harvest came, then I went—to taste the seas and   
love, yes love, I fell in love   
afterwards I learned how to love, (amongst other   
things), but first of all   
I had to fall.    

[I now think that all things both begins and ends   
with falling]   

his beauty was [...] &”!(¤!)¤(=%)Q=¤)=¤!”!#¤%%”#)=X?   
[I melted on his tongue like a cube of white sugar]