NOEMAYA

The fall is here. It has made itself felt, from the inside; from the deep.

The fall is vigorously marching toward me, the ground shaking more and more and I am trembling out of fear and uncertainty. The fall’s magnificence precedes its face.

I love the fall. I love how the fall smells, I love its chills and the way they make me feel; I shake to the marrow and my feet lose strength. But I love all that sweet loss of control, that heavy heart, the hole that grows in the gut and conquers the chest, the strings that pull my breath inwardly so strongly that I have to gasp for air.

The revolution has begun. But I am already resigned, for I always loved the fall, the suspension in the empty space, the original sin, the other in my heart, the inside looking for its outside, the interior finding itself in the exterior.

The fall is here again and it is rushing through my body like liquid Jesus. Here is where the three planes collide, where the world is formed and made whole.

I am made of love, not of bread and blood. These days I am swept by the Royal flood. All things end in the ocean of bliss, both the gem and its Crud.

There is an elephant in my room, and it’s sitting on my chest. But our foundation goes so deep that even the weight of heavens can’t break us.

Dear elephant, how can we endure this any longer! It is time to open up and loosen your borders, so that I may be united with the sweet states of Florence.