the way we follow you, through alleys, into oceans, when your gay ass gets out of a shady taxi in an unknown area in an unknown city in an unknown land and walks hours until you find the proper bus stop that returns you to your beloveds. we know you know you might die a violent death. your 8th house is in Aries. that’s your death house. you think it’s your intuition telling you not to be afraid of car crashes, of ordinary but no less tragic ways of dying. but it’s not that. it’s us. following you down the empty streets of Piedras Negras and ducking into a bar, drinking with Mexican cartel members. it is us, waiting for 15 hours in a room with you while officers hold onto your passport, threaten you with detention and disappearance, and then let you walk out alone into the night. look over your shoulder you won’t ever see us. we hide because you will need us every day until it is your last day. and we will be there. when the angel you were born with returns, to embrace you and welcome you to the afterlife. until then, live your life. burn your enemies. dream of the underworld.
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