wearing a deathlace
in the bony garden
the pretty women as statues
when I’ve known none of them

eyes, not mine, stare back
if I have failed, let me go
through dooms of silence

in suffering of the first born,
the last born, upon the orange groves
and syrup of my old home.

© 2021 All Rights Reserved.

12 responses to “Adieu.”

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