Marry Me...

Or are you scared? Question that naked the time, shadow knife between the thighs of desire. Seven times. The perfect number to open the doors of vertigo, for the river of saliva navigate without a map for your salt geography. Marry Me in the Midday Meridian, when the sun is an eye that sees everything and the clothes are a process that we forgot at the edge of the room. Seven times. As the days of creation, but without the rest of the seventh: there is no Genesis worth it if it doesn't start with your moan opening the first crack of dawn. Or are you scared? Fear is an animal that licks the wounds of the stench. Tell me what is more sacred that the sweat of two bodies on your cross of dawn? Marry Me in the contract without letter girl, without judges or witnesses, just the notary of the pulse and the tongue stamp. Seven times. The number that doesn't lie, the biological clock that marks the fire the exact time of delivery Tell me now: is your fear a yes or is it a no with open legs? Andrea Lopez 🌹✍️