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.