And God said to me, write
And I tore the mare’s rib
And I swallowed my own heartbeat.
Nothing, Gaupa, has it’s tongue
In you. I grew my confidence like a stone
In the middle of a city. Bells told me to
Love. He bit half a tomato. A man,
whose hands—how could I know
if they prayed, know if they’d
hold me the same in another place. If I was born
With chants in my mouth, if I was a strong wind,
if I grew again into the mountain mouth,
I’d sing—Take me. Now, I sing take me. Now
My heart beat His stone.