Where do I place you
declassified?
O my boundless thirst-
you have made me cry again.

The haters
were many. Like myriad
thorns in flesh. Cannot stop the blood.
You smile.

In your beak. Carrying the
death- fire bird. Where you are going?
Past lake, past hills. The hunchback
stoops further, to get the award.

Who was the enemy of
body art? Birthmarks were becoming
****. You want to exhibit
all the wounds of earth.

O god, your hairs are growing.