Are you genuine, I ask?
Your face, a stone wall,
I had been bruising my psyche against it.
I have no strength to bury myself alive,
in the mass grave of lies...
An ancient fear descends from the hill.
Wants to marry a tree.
Or worship the terror of a diaspora.
The vultures are dying every day,
We were talking of pregnancy, desire and death.
The sparrows are gone. Heat is rising...
I am starting the countdown.
