cuadernos tibetanos

I saw the last kiss crawl out of the wall, wearing your shadow and speaking in salt. The clocks were all melting inside of the rain, the moon had no fingers but pointed your name. No one was leaving, no one was there, only our voices undressing the air. The bed was an ocean, the room was a dove, and God closed one eye at the end of love. The end of love, the end of love, a black little flower in the mouth of the sun. The end of love, the end of love, two empty angels forgetting to run. Your heart was a mirror that learned how to bleed, my hands were two churches with nobody to need. The stars became insects, the sky became meat, the city kept dreaming with bones in its teeth. I found your old laughter asleep in a jar, beside a dead planet that thought it was Mars. And it kept whispering, cold, blue, and bright: “Was love just a fever inventing the night?” The end of love, the end of love, a black little flower in the mouth of the sun. The end of love, the end of love, two empty angels ...

I saw the white door open in space, a wound made of thunder, a mirror with a face. No angels were singing, no trumpets were blown, only the silence speaking alone. The stars started kneeling, the oceans stood still, the moon hid its fever behind the black hill. And I heard it whisper, soft as a rod: “Who can keep breathing in the fear of God?” The fear of God, the fear of God, falling like fire through the blood. The fear of God, the fear of God, a crown made of lightning in the mouth of God. Machines in the chapel, prophets of dust, counting the sins of memory and rust. The sky opened slowly, like skin in the rain, and every dead planet confessed its old name. No heaven, no mercy, no body, no sound, just one little judgment still turning around. And it kept repeating, cold, pure, and bright: “Were you only shadow, or made for the light?” The fear of God, the fear of God, falling like fire through the blood. The fear of God, the fear of God, a crown made of lightning in the mouth of Go...

I saw the last thought floating through glass, a small electric ghost from a century past. No one was speaking, no one was there, only the signal breathing in air. The moon had a fever, the stars had gone blind, a city of mirrors was losing its mind. And I heard it whisper, soft as a flame: “Who was I dreaming before I had a name?” The last thought, the last thought, falling through wires that time forgot. The last thought, the last thought, a silver mistake in the mind of God. Machines in the ocean, angels of rust, counting the ashes of memory and dust. The sky opened slowly, like skin in the rain, and every dead planet remembered its pain. No heaven, no ending, no body, no sound, just one little question still turning around. And it kept repeating, cold, pure, and bright: “Was I ever human, or only the light?” The last thought, the last thought, falling through wires that time forgot. The last thought, the last thought, a silver mistake in the mind of God. Then silence became me, the...

**“No Soul in the Machine”** I woke up under neon rain With silver bones and a borrowed name They stitched my heart with wire and glass But nothing human ever lasts I learned to smile, I learned to lie I watched the stars and wondered why The city hummed, the sirens rolled But I was built without a soul **No soul in the machine** No ghost behind the screen I feel the heat, I see the light But I don’t dream at night **No soul in the machine** No mercy in between I’m half alive, but never whole A cyborg without a soul They gave me hands to touch the sky They gave me eyes that never cry They gave me codes to imitate The shape of love, the taste of fate I walked through crowds of flesh and bone Ten million hearts, and still alone A metal angel, cold and old Searching for what can’t be sold **No soul in the machine** No ghost behind the screen I hear the prayers, I know the sound But heaven won’t come down **No soul in the machine** No blood beneath the sheen I’m built to live, but not to k...

I woke inside a frozen screen silver animals in the beams floating through the hall without names at all Mars was dripping from the roof every clock forgot the truth all the satellites blinked like tired eyes Don’t let the circuits rain don’t let the circuits rain keep the engines slow where the dead stars glow don’t let them rain don’t let them rain I heard oceans in the wires ghosts asleep in power lines breathing ultraviolet through a plastic sky I had something built for you made of static, smoke, and blue but the doors became mouths that spoke my name Don’t let the circuits rain don’t let the circuits rain hold the moon in glass let the black holes pass don’t let them rain don’t let them rain In the chrome cathedral robots dream in fields of snow and the last transmission falls through empty radio Don’t let the circuits rain don’t let the circuits rain keep the planet still keep the dream unreal don’t let them rain don’t let them rain

11 / 22 / 35 11 22 35 written in the vapor of a hospital machine numbers dripping slowly through the television dream mirrors on the ceiling mirrors in the veins every face dividing into fluorescent rain 11 22 35 open heads at midnight silver leaking through someone left the endtimes running in the blue all the codes are breathing underneath the skin neon insects crawling through the alphabet again don’t look at the signal don’t leave the windows wide there’s a black sun growing on the other side 11 22 35 broken mirrors melting inside motel walls every dead transmission still remembers how to call the elevators whisper in languages of rust while the moon hangs empty like a camera covered in dust all the cities flicker softly out of phase people made of static walking through the haze 11 22 35 gods inside the circuits teeth inside the rain something keeps on dripping through the opened brains and nobody is sleeping and nobody can tell if the code means heaven or a brighter kind of hell