Sunrise Tacos

Rama and Sita are in a fucking garden and they're singing some shit, the lucid playwords of a million shining lights, but it is a quiet evening - and the rocks are silent. Our feet burn with midnight, and the clouds fall down. A young girl appears - the naga temple is down there, she says. It is a black hole, and the serpent is quiet, but I see her in me, and the rocks tremble. We kissed for a thousand years in these rocks, and I dreamed you were kissing the air between us, but we were silent. Stepping backwards into the golden frame, it appears that lightning struck once, but I felt it. I paid a visit to the monolith again tonight, but the chakra disc wasn’t there. In sweeter days my pulse was numb, but tonight I am Thor upon Tanngrisnir, Mithras awakening, Santa Claus in flight. A dream is a wish your heart makes, but here there are only pyramids, triangles, and birds. Outside in the rain, Dipangkorn Rasmijoti is playing with matches and they told him it wasn’t smart, but here we are in the age of the mediocre King and the Buddha’s religion is vanishing. Baphomet weaves silently through the streets, looking sideways, but I am alone, I am still here, in the Botticelli room, fingering the silver amulet, and I am alone, but I felt it. I felt it. Mommy is home and the sun is setting over Bangkok and the boy in the fish tank is swimming in circles and his condom is falling off and shit shit the one with the number three is touching my cock and I felt it. I felt it.