Fiction invents us

 It is you who are on the horizon. Fiction invents us. Believe us, not her. That's why I want to be her, not me, her. Being the fiction that is left, it leaves me, whatever it does to me, because I can only be me being her. I want to be you; with your immense past. With your love of boat. With your bridge lips. With your clothes on. Rest and calm. The passive smile. She strangles herself in the mouths. Despite, without regret, life is fulfilled. From station to station it is due. Which is due to cycles. Promise of the next life. She promises us without owing us. He does not give without asking for forgiveness for the pain he causes us. She gives us, in return, castles in the air. Although, castles, castles are.