They warned him that she was mad. He did not believe them... until she took his heart and started to write poems with his blood. “Do not worry,” she said, “for every poem is stained with a kiss.” She wrote a hundred more. It was a fantasy that was never meant for any human. But he did not want to let go... until she evoked ghosts and ancient spirits to hold him tight. “Do not move,” she whispered. “I also want to write poems inside your body. If you move, it might hurt more.” She stabbed her golden quill into his skin and wrote until midnight, until there was no more space in him for another poem. Tired yet smiling, she asked, “Do you like it?” “Whatever makes you happy,” he groaned, not knowing if he was dead or alive. “But, please tell me, do you also love me?” he asked. She looked at him, her glassy eyes pure and innocent, “I only write because of you, my love. You make me a poet.” Then she kissed him, and at once he knew t
She wanted to eat the Moon That is impossible I said the Moon is too big Do not be hilarious she laughed and held a coin up to the Moon It is even smaller than this coin I will eat it like an almond Moments later, I heard that she rode a Lemurian crystal orb and flew to the Moon Next evening, I saw the crescent Moon and realized that she was probably living her dream of eating — eating the Moon Worried that no Moon might be left for humanity I rented a helicopter and flew high up into space I found her, sitting on the Moon as if thinking of the right way to bite it How are you? I asked Come and sit beside me she smiled I do not think I still want to eat the Moon she said That is strange, why not? I asked From here, everything looks more beautiful she answered The Earth looks like a dream as it should be And if I eat the Moon, we would not have this place to sit together She reached for a star and plucked it I can have this instead Would you like some? she asked No, thank yo