the sun will try to walk

your body into fired clay

as you scribble your emptiness

in the pain of a dying dog.

 

the night turns a name

into a soft prayer.

 

bodies float in streams

in search of fear.

 

silence is also broken

by thoughts of men.

 

you drink your griefs

as a husband’s fury breaks

your skin into red-waters.

 

death is a silent response

to the call of memories,

you leave when your breath

is called.

 

sometimes birds are afraid

to take off,

a hungry boy finds his way home

in the eye of a mob.

 

open a mother’s heart

and paint the sky with scars.

 

to live,

a girl watches the sun

rise in her thighs.

 

one day you forget

to wake up.

 

death gives men wings

to fly into solitude.