Before my eyes
(an african woman rising from the ground
crying streams of sand infinite her wailing sound pierces
her son I call to me he bites off his finger and
rubs his blood in my hair and across
my face he cuts me)
open;
it’s tattooed in my mind for a blink.
Sep 17, 2011
Sep 17, 2011 at 6:37 AM UTC
Before my eyes
(an african woman rising from the ground
crying streams of sand infinite her wailing sound pierces
her son I call to me he bites off his finger and
rubs his blood in my hair and across
my face he cuts me)
open;
it’s tattooed in my mind for a blink.