Constructing a single crown requires time.
Time is a road acrid with gasoline,
we travelled far to understand one thing:
Love has its own gravity.
Sometimes, to erect a home, one must dismantle
the dreams of our fathers, our mothers.
Make me an exile, remake me, screw the clay—
the artist never averts their eyes—or so Kurosawa said.
Seduction, like a work of art, begins with a shadow,
if only you’d seduce me in the daylight,
the entire bedroom is a sequence of shadows,
if only my crown was not made of plastic,
let’s face it, we were foolish to believe in
building kingdoms out of bedsheets.