The young bird sails,
the little purple currants
control the fear.
The fragile bite,
the real last supper
controls your mind.

How can you exist like a luxuriant high button shoe?
Are they selling flu?
Are you the schoolmaster and were you a no scholar?
Can you be sold?

"What's that?"
I don't know.
I have a vision of a ******,
Forest fires,
menstrual fluids,
a new language,
the divine messenger,
the hidden gods of blood
&
a single moment's pain.

The fundamental young bird now sails for a brief moment.
I will buy you all a ****** and a little persistence of memory


- Samar Charulingah Godfrey