Becoming the truth. Humans
are made. Very difficult agenda. Sedition
throws the fugitives. Where are pastors?
I will develop a liaison with
hornets, collecting the stings for analogy
of a black moon in distress.
Will you live in my
heart though the blood. The caterpillars.
are crawling, very hungry.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem