songduciel

to live is to see the sorrows of others

to long for the song of your mom

to stroke the head of your black dog

to live is to see the sorrows of others 

to greet at the sound of your father’s feet

if i don’t take something from you 

ill take the other.

i’ll wash your oceans down to my essence

and eat the dirt that gives you life

the schools of fish shall go to my offspring 

i can only imagine the salt of the sea and

the schools of tuna that end up in my bowl

they swim through the eternity that melts into the sky

surviving the harsh summers

mating through the comforting winters

i wish to mold you into a favored bread

bake you until pleasurable consumption

but only one piece of you.

you are not even to be baked. you are not a you

there is a sweaty girl in the equator

who sits in the fields of her farm, brewing eyes watching the cassava grow

she sits in the refreshing heat, a heat that caresses her cheeks and plagues her mind

…