i had to ask for Matthyon's name your spelt-out request you came to me held a finger up for every letter carefully, mysteriously my new alphabet
Matthyon we fought each other for bread in white rooms i dusted my cheeks with yeast; saw you bore the mark drawn on pages the male curiosity in dust makes me cough the pride i have slumbers
Matthyon the clouds do not often agree on the psyche of the human being untransparant down there it slips through their fingers; blood stains appear in the sky on those evenings only
and i'm finding part of it in the pages of parchment bibles make me dust off my puffed embarrassed cheekbones i look up i split meat from bone i want this to be well done