Inside the deep forests of dolor
Where I secretly hide my weepings,
Where I conceal my dreads...
The snake is slumbering like a dead limb,
I am cold in your body.
I penetrate into your wounds
Where eyes are watching for me,
Numb gapings, threshold with no borders,
Oblivion of flesh and mourning.
Small mimetic animal,
I wander through your recesses
Tasting like salt flower.
Flesh cathedral,
I dissect your entrails,
Dreadful irradiated fate,
Where I consider the real shape
Of the circle, thousand times.