I am black in the air.
You grasp black graves among the vapors.

Be luminous. The lust has come.
All colorful beneath the sea.

I confound red tentacles about the clouds.
Be aware! The heat will be born.

Sinister and dull among the grave.
I smell dream-like shivas on the bullshit.

Yo! The insanity will come again
alone intangible
on the edge of the world
something missing.

With what memories
the refugee
seek the road back
before help could come.


- "...when she tore her dress, on the briars, in her flight."