Let me bring you my rose

"Let me bring my rose 

You will bring your own

If I catch a cold you cook a soup

When you are on the down

I will say, wait

I will bring rope to bring you up

We kiss and laugh, hold our breath

Giving a moment for the stars to love

Let me take your hands

As soon as this place come your way,” the young ambassador of Earth finished. He had turned to a poet since he got to M80-1; light years upon light years away from home.

The way he was following one female Bpor, Azora, like a heating He-goat. Jesus of Nazareth.

”Because you think lions should be gentle, doesn’t mean they are gentle. Ideas are perfect but reality is not,” I had told him once.

The fifty years (two hundred on Earth) that I have been here, I have always injected myself with White-PB every morning. I can’t sex or even masturbate. The first time I masturbated the semen slithered into the vagina of my neighbour’s daughter.

I had to beg her to abort the seed. She didn’t understand why I would want that; she was a teenage Bpor, she took the money and went to poop out the semen.

The teenage girl Gira has sixteen eggs in the Coii (a collective womb of all Bpor) now; the females have a higher voluntary control over their body that they can use as many sperm cells in a semen they want to fertilizer their eggs.

Bpors have the physique of human beings but have white skin that renews itself every morning. I mean paper-white, smoke-white, ghost-white. Purple nails and eyelashes, no other body hair. They are missing out in the sensation of worshipping your skin with a sponge, soap and water. But they always end up smelling like candy, somehow.

The suns are always up and things grow here, weirdly. I mean if you didn’t cook seed that well and you ate it, it will start growing from your stomach; many seeds had grown into trees in my pockets. Maybe it is because the whole planet is in a constant day– no night.

“Earthboy, it sounds beautiful. Did you get that from Wikipedia?” Azora says, dodging the idiot that kept on inventing Ass-hair cutter and hawking them here in the market. Ocean, the Earth ambassador forgot their portal cards.

He had grown to love life here. You can have a door in your bedroom that leads to another district way off in the other side of the planet. 

While we are still trying to understand and utilize light energy, they have done that, and have also derived energy from darkness; from the numerous massive blackholes around them.

“No… come on, I wrote that for you. Jesus Christ, everything Wikipedia. At least try to pretend you appreciate the effort.” A whiff of pepper meat stew and a flavor of medicinal diced leaves teased his nose. The young ambassador became hungry at once.

“You see, this is one thing about Wikipedia literates, when facts ferment their weak ideas, they become angry.”

Ocean was tired and hungry and too angry to talk. His quietness made her quiet. She was thinking maybe he was too hard on him. They were passing a Bpor boy holding a chip and smiling. 'I bet he just earned it, it must have been a lot he paid for it.' He is putting the chip inside his ears and it is not working.

He went on his knees and drew down his shorts and plugged the chips into his anus. They have no different between men and machine in their science. They can copy data from chips into the mind; the terminals are made to be compatible with human openings. 

To be fair, they have been here five million year before life form popped up on Earth. The Administrator, Bpori Bnno came himself to welcome Ocean when he first arrived here.

Ocean was 22years, he had done a remarkable work in the peace corp. The commission had recommended him to the Intergalactic Internationals. Bpori Bnno was 89.

Bpors don’t grown old, when they have reached the peak of their adult life, they don’t deteriorate , they experience the phenomenon they call Zerowth. But they have only a hundred years to live, the same for every one of them, even their animals, and no second added-- none removed.

This has put things in perspectives for them. They don’t marry; the birth and bringing up of the children is sponsored and organized by the Administration.

A friend, Drri, that sells fruit had told me that a girl he had sex with, left the district and was using his semen for ten years to fertilize her eggs. I buy yoh from him, he is the only Bpor that sells the best yoh; it taste like whatever you can imagine. Mango, orange, pineapple, oh pineapple, I eat all in yoh. 

A thousand year ago, two weeks for the Bpor, they used to sell industrially made humans there in that market. But now they had passed a law against it. Even at that, I still don’t forget my White-BP. Everyone I know must be dead by now on Earth.

The young prince will go outside, like the way he did that day in that market, looking all brown.

At the centre of the market, Ocean stopped Azora by holding her hand. She turned to him.

 A song was playing from a button suspended in air. Their music feels like a slow-force, sad and angry but slow and steady; building up momentum and at the peak leaves you will nothing, like the sounds of a coming trains along the tracks.

“Can you stop going away from me for just awhile,” he said, looking into her iris; a whirling of a million stars. 

“No, no, no. it is you that is going away, and never coming back… even though it’s not of your will.”

“What?”

“Bpori Bnoo is a maniac and a writer. He lives for the twist. He is starting a war he knows he will surely win. He is not afraid of the Galactics Council. You don’t want to see what is in front of you.”

“Fuck! Fuck!” and he forgot his portal cards.

Something hit Azora in her chest; she was bleeding out waterlike blood and fell to the floor. Ocean started running; he knew this action will amount to nothing but, out of the force of habit, he ran.

 Knives were stabbing him and vanishing, from different angle; leaving him with a feeling of injecting hot oil into the blood vessels.  

He finally fell and could not go no more.

The boy with the chip came out through a mini wormhole with Bpori Bnno. Bpori Bnno came out smiling and laughing; he even coiled on the ground, clutching his stomach in laughter. The chip boy walked up to where Ocean float on top his blood and drive a poisoned saw-edge knife into his head.

When Azora came, she meet him Caesared and lifeless. She held him in her hand and cried. “Earthboy, please, please. We can share saliva-kiss kiss, I will kiss you. Please…. just stay and I will do anything you want. Listen to your poems. Fool, stay!”

She wished she had died when she was shot, she was jealous of Ocean on this account.

The Bpors can’t die, and consequently can’t kill themselves even if they try, until they are exactly one hundred year old. Bpori Bnoo legalized the killing of humans (industrially made or otherwise) to save overwhelming murderous instincts that had been directed to their biodiversity. 

He enjoys tricking aliens, earthlings especially, to come to his planet. And killing them like a game.

XbestoX