
I confess that I hold my heart between the sunsets, split in two, created as a single center, divided by suns and moons of another galaxy. I confess that I am not in my bones, that I have no body, my breath is distorted by opposite impulses to the immortal nature. I confess that I have edges outside the body, between the clouds and the stars. Knots in the throat. Desires left in the red veins. Pulsation. Danger of melting into so much universal love.