A basket of floral patterns started right here, from my proclaimed beauty.
I was beautiful, like a cast of Aurora on the Himalayas.
First, I learned and swallowed truth with honey, so was the birth of my eyes.
this deep, hazelnut mosaic eyes
My body contacted with the blatant Moon, who marked my naked body
with thorns, countless emotions of twists and turns
And I was carved with my first outcry, I walked the truth and devoured it
In a pool of bells and music, Bloodstains I see
piled up as dead leaves, choking my pharynx
loading my teeth,
so I spill….I spill the truth, the unsparing bowl of parasites
an invisible ladder of truth
and so the truth was born, inside my flesh
I inhaled the truth…decorated its scratch on my lips
for this body is a truth.
Screams, numbness, volatile bubble of love.
©My valiant Soul