iii. dreamhome heartaches, Dante Émile
CW: violence
Let me see what dances behind those eyes. Let me set them on the bedside table and scoop your brains out with my fingers. This way we’re even. This way we finally have nothing to hide. The way your skin barely holds you together tells me to keep pulling at the seams until it comes down like theatre drapes.
Step into the belly of the beast and find instead land to lay your foundations. This could be the main bedroom, you could leave your books in here, and right there, on the corner, an oven big enough to fit the both of us.
You stand beside me as the world crumbles for the second time tonight and remind me that destruction and creation were birthed from the same womb, and a God is a God because we allow him to be.
This house I’ve built in the eye of the storm holds its breath for us.
Shed your masks in the foyer and wait for me inside.
Dante Émile is a Mexican, gay, transmasculine author based in Barcelona. They write both in English and Spanish about topics such as death, God, love and horror, and sometimes about two or more of them at the same time. They are currently working on a poetry book titled MISPLACED ORGANS & VARIOUS SAINTS.