Out of my Algeria
they made the prisons taller
...
Come walk with me under the low-slung stars
until the birds are buried again inside our blood,
...
You were saying easy things;
the hard-working woman of the morning
...
I love you that's true I love you that's false
crows on my tongue
...
Here silence is called for
where the night rumbles and the sea wears it away
...