FIFTY PILLS

Explaining the rebellion is entering to an old land
taken by birds
imprisoned in time
where the masks are born on the dawn’s sharp edge

Your feet … loving my absence
and I, inside, in a hole, drinking

The longing for the tremor of your prayers
cover me with the invisibility of a glass drunk on rum
with the wind seducing my throat
I   W A K E   U P

                               Like a gift from the fear.