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The Insult
Suddenly, one day You become a weed on a courtyard wall The wild green that nourishes on the intrinsic bliss of his domesticity. Their murmurs of yesteryears gather on your body, hanging down the dilapidated concrete, and write new epilogues for a play, that ended much before the first Act Your hapless nerves become, the scorching summer intruding, their frozen corridors. The melancholy whore, You spread like evening rays over, the impending silence. Your words Your skies Your cuddle Your newfound womb, shatter over a forbidden land, mutilated. The snake bite on their moonlit nights, You ooze out, from a million pores.
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