Francisco Molina

I adore every single freckle of his existence, especially this one

a Javier, una zorra

It has a mole in the iris but it was also an eclipse and the dormant possibility of me losing every light if it closes its eyelids. I could cross the whole anomaly with just one arm, wrapped it with the other one to hug myself too. It was a sad skinny boy, I was an ape with long arms and hair behind the ears. Actually I was an ape who claimed to a person why he has part of the universe while we fuck. So I was making apish sounds, not the uh uh uuuh ones, they were the ukikii kii type, like saying Please don’t lose the eye contact while I’m riding you.

I was at the highest point of the cosmos, as it exists a top and a bottom in these dimension, pulling down a sidereal banana to put in my mouth, but it wasn’t those large threes, neither a pale fruit rich in potassium, it was instead an anomaly with legs, arms, an amount of extremities that I could hold with my tongue. If it keeps the eyes wide open I would be able to find a little sense in this plane of the existence. Outside of this I was an ape who scratches in public, not ashamed of shitting in the streets.

I felt all its exposed ribs with each of my fingers. I wanted to leave my fangs pierced in thecosmos’ bones. I’m chewing a part of the cosmos. The cosmos turns the lights on and off, it is creating new laws for the order by displacing moons between its sun and me while it blinks. There is a third entity that watches everything and it has a cellphone in its hands.

More simian, more simian, I want you to move the bed till it bounces, he said.

I’m oscillating while ukikii kiii. A deeper ukiiiikiiiiiiii is uttered, like accelerating. The cosmos says I’m about to cum. Ukikii kiii until the limit. The cosmos opens the eyelids severely, squirting light, a liquid one, for about four seconds. I came too, dripping the wall, dripping part of its non-face but a galaxies cumulus. The cosmos complains I get cum inside my eyes.

The third entity is a subject, a man with a proper name, he’s almost thirty and he likes to record people fucking with his cellphone. Ha has the bad habit of interrupting everyone asking weird things. More simian, he said. I think that I cannot accelerate the number of revolutions in my hips because I reached the max capacity.

The cosmos went to the bathroom to get cleaned. He should leave things as they are, cum dries quickly so I could get enlighted forever. Actually to achieve this we need to fuck for eternity. That sounds really nice jeje.

It’s been a while, he said. I’m an ape trapped in the cosmos, don’t talk to me: uh uh uuuh. We should do this often, he said. I snarl at him.

When things get kinky, a little scar opens in the cosmos’s foreskin. It is dangerous having a long term relationship with a circumcised guy if you have more sharpness than the usual inside your mouth. We are aware of this danger, it happened the first time that we met while I sucked his dick in an emergency stairs, it was a warning that the flood would occur over and over. The cosmos is pressing a cotton piece against his foreskin, waiting for the end of the stream.

If he’s not besides me I’m just a hairy guy, with a pervy friend. Having a real communication with this guy is impossible.

Uh uh uuuh
Uh uh uuuh
Uh uh uuuh

(I cannot stop the snarl)

he’s taking his time, he said. I’m going to check, he said.

When I rented this room I never realize how poorly it’s lighted. The window is too small, or it’senough for the place and the place is too small. It’s overpriced, but I’m next to the subway. Now both of them are taking too long, but I’m lazy af. I let myself to rest, I just came, blame it on the eternity lol. Maybe my friend is holding on the cotton piece. Maybe the cosmos got another boner (this is the reason of my affliction). Maybe I can make those two fall in love and after throw myself out of the window (but it’s too small).


Francisco Molina (Santiago de Chile, 1992), editor in Los Libros de la Mujer Rota Press. Currently is running a bilingual rewrite project with the poet and translator Matías Fleischmann, you can see it at: unpezconmicara.tumblr.com. This year he is publishing his first short-story book called “El amor de los salmones” (Love of salmons).