Said I shouldn't.
Everything I did.
A litter of chewed knucklebones
I've spread them out over the
rectangular floor as regularly as
I can; so I can account for them.
Her hands are crossed over
her breasts and each holds
a feather; her face has no features
Have I come to beg
What do I wish — to be
Is it an accumulation
of what I've said, that
counts, that I'm counting
is it all alphabet and abacus
You still don't have a face.
Suddenly she has the face of a
No that's a different
I tell you this
I don't have any idea what my word is, I
mean fault. Is it a word or an act. The
whole thrill is ripping me apart
words there's nothing but a pumping
but clearly, everything I said, did,
was a long shot
We didn't hear a word
What have you ever heard?
Now I'm here — black-caped in a
chair. Animal staring at me
I sink into your disaffected
ambiance to name.
have been laid on me from
and my own
resulting in the bone strewn carpet
I had to grow the dice
of accounting to your love; for
you made me speak to you
lovingly; or did I do that naturally
oh just, bloodthirsty face
who doesn't have to understand.
I don't know who I'm speaking to
is pushing me
Judgment maybe it's when being
hallucinate you best
I don't want to use my name!
'Where I was born we girls ran
free. and named ourselves,'
She may kill me,
it depends on whether she's hungry
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem