In the sheltered space of my home, I taste the air as my lover.
Everything around me can make me feel desire.
Because it lives under my skin.
Worlds of normality open the door to universes of strangeness and fantasy.
Sexuality arises
from places I touch
and I surrender
to the rough textures of physical matter,
where pleasant friction can be found in the void.
I scratch and caress
my wounds
inside the walls of my home.
Inhale, exhale.
Import, export.
The land is fertile and is pure.