-What are you thinking about?

-I want to think of this as a dream.

-It is.

-Only that besides calling it a dream, I like to call it the temple of images. We are here and it looks like a simple dark meditation hall, but it is more than that, it is a state.

-You're experimenting on me. Mental state?

-Although I've always been the most transgressive in my scientific field, I'm very competitive and since we met you know I don't like to experience what everyone does. It's a megaego state.

-Ah, Nietzsche.

-Not close at all. Here you transcend the reality that your consciousness perceives, and you no longer see what is normally around you. That's why you see that this couple next to you is making love as if you wanted to enjoy pornography and right now you're excited. It's just you here, that's all.

-How can you tell?

-Welcome to the temple...

Sofia had developed the megaego theory about Damian. He wanted to have all his creativity and imagination in his possession. The artists of his caliber were extinct.

Step by step I managed to play with him like a seductive beast. Until he managed to convince him that in the temple he could get the rawest of his ideas, the purity of his imagination, to feel -literally- the vibrations that his art generated. Damian accepted his proposal when he heard the words eros and bandages.

Damian loved the dark, that heat that gives him the idea of being blind and wanting to be blind. He says that with his eyes closed, anything is richer and he went with the certainty that Sophie would play an important role in the story he was already plotting as he went to the temple.

When we arrived there was music, the Chamber of Reflection by Mac DeMarco was playing. Sofia blindfolded him and he diluted himself in the realm of his cosmos, the sensation was very much like when he was using LSD, only his perception was beyond his consciousness, and everything felt more real than real.

-Now tell me what you see.

-I see a giant foot watching me.

-Ok, why do you think you see that?

-I don't know, it's funny, maybe....

-Do you hear groans?

-Oh yeah, they feel so good. It's like a song of beasts in love, I see them. Moaning is a way of preaching the flesh. Humanity at this point should groan instead of talk, it is undoubtedly an act that communicates more, even more necessary.

Sofia began to take notes on what her imagination dictated....

And it seemed that his creativity was infinite. Sofia was beginning to like it and with each sentence she began to lose focus.

-I feel a sun of heart capable of giving the best orgasm to the universe....

She'd watch him and look at that bandage on the table.

-Love is the sacred word that I treasure in a land I found days ago, where I am now, the perfection of my peace, is your crotch over me.

Without realizing it, Sophia found herself on Damian, blindfolded to him, while he remained connected and naked.

Sofia rides and pursues the orgasm of her journey.

-ahw, you feel so good, Damian... You're magic, your imaginary is gold. I want to moan, stop saying stupid things and moan like I do in your mind.

-It's water. Life is the water on my hands. That fall that refreshes my thinking and says what all the existing galaxies stand for.

-This is so good, don't stop. Please. Please. I beg you, ahjj...

-I hate you.

-And I hate you too much.

-...

It was not so fast, they spent weeks connected, naked, where the only food was always their imagination, the mother of their poetry.

They prayed for the invention of new pleasures, they claimed that it was all humanity needed: pleasure. They were used to closing in on it.

The session went on, the years took hold of them in that dark room. Dr. Sofia built a house inside the temple with the infinite possibility of making love like never before in any other corner of the universe.

Damian diluted in his own sea

-Finals haven't existed since I've known you. An ending is a way of denying the imagination. Remember, dear? Who invented this game... What is my imagination is nothing more than what comes out of your bandage....

-The woman is a mine of love and pleasure...

-...and things we don't understand, that's what you are.

-I am.

-Come, ride, a thousand times more.

-...