A moon interrupted;
riles the social class.
A native sense comes of age.

Piercing stare becomes rarefied,
unbuttons the peaks and
kills you with a mallet.

The scared mask falls
off the divine embrace, lets
free the pigeons from the golden cage.

The forked tongue will
speak only truth. Blood
was the only stain, washed easily.

I will get the tan
in moonlight only. My scars
will remain invisible in silver.