the truth in my writing is so sudden
the lie in my smile is so golden
the sun gives the paper a sniff of its blessings
illuminating writers as gods; wizards of words.
the words are not exactly
the letters are not really
the sentences are not certainly
what is being said.
scriptures glowing like gold on old parchment
with the wave of letters wiping the sermons out
of your consciousness and infusing it with spells
I’m a wizard. These words of god.
don’t trust our smile.
pain is a stain throughout our writing.
turning beauty into a thrilling madness;
extract aesthetic out of the destructions.
you’ll be moved;
you will need our suffering and stumbling.
all this gold in my smile
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