Justin’s guiding the sheets over himself. He’s afraid of seeing the darkness over his ribs, or leaving it to be colored by the various characters from the television. Some of those have no names, or are masks for the others who wish for omnipotence. I wait for his hands to look receptive and I almost forget everything that happened in the previous days. Outside, night birds and celestial bodies watch me design my own emasculation. Justin looks out for the owls that don’t exist in this country, wishing for them to abandon the narrative once again.
His skin is too tightly bound to be impressed upon by softer hands. He is wrapped in aluminum foil in the night, so he appears more radiant. Its strength is unquestioned. Men of various sizes have committed themselves to unfurling reflections of themselves, only to find quantities more puzzling than words.
On a windowsill next to him, in remains of sunlight, my animals are constructing tiny machines for making sense. The cats are afraid of slow fire, and can only see in the daylight. Unconscious fragments of the collective that will readily give their corpses to the cause. The worms have become what my eyes might have been in previous lives. They try their hardest to find whatever is true in Justin’s skin, but will always become dry and still in the reflection. The movie plays on, the colors change inexplicably, and I have nothing but my brittle animals to blame every time the new arrangements fold me out from him, back into chaos. He doesn’t need language any more, his gestures have become perfect as every other invention he has made for himself. The animals dismantle themselves in the growing dark.
When the movie ends, he sheds whatever is left of his disguise, but makes sure everything that he could possibly feel is kept in darkness. Now, it is time for me to crawl off into the differences he has defined for us.
Meanwhile, the owls look deeper and witness the slowness of sleeping movements. In the morning, they will leave with all of the secrets that could be acquired and return to whoever sent them.