Yesterday, late at night I talked to God for salvation,
from all the dead bodies and all the hormonal secretions of crafted mortuaries.
I don’t know if it was god or not but I have always been a silent talker…I have always felt spirituality in times when there’s nobody around and when I can erase the limitations of sanity with my relentless drinking.
It was good…I could almost feel I have trapped the infinity in my turned over moist glass.
There was time I know; when I pleaded to have the freedom to disagree…there was a time when I laughed at his vulgar jokes…there was a time when I just wanted an afternoon from the old school days.
And all this happened inside a night when I made an ass out of myself by becoming a wobbling softball.
At the end the caged wind told me to mind my own businesses and get a great fuck for night bed.
How true, my God knows me…
How specific, my God knows the music of my dumb soul.
All I know that, I felt touched by the mutual dumbness of ours…we knew nothing except the nudity of true conversations and yeah; probably some names of hot pornstars.

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Photograph: Alfred Stieglitz.