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When a Wind Blows, Flowers Pollinate. When you unclothed your face, a beast is seen eating the curtains of the sky. You said your days cry when you sing a bird And the sun laughs at your sluggish face But your face is a mirror where we draw our sins And our sins are the broken hymen of our home. Remember, these days are smoke, fog, and dust. & Earth is created without a husband. I entered this day with my first dream As a boy carries the rivers of his stomach Then, I sat on the palm of the immortal embers Where my skull is eaten first then my neck & my torso, Where I slept in the bowl of blood Writing a letter to my mother, There’s no better way to narrate our pains And no way to slaughter flowers that didn’t know the voice of men. Like…

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