The war game begins.
You hide the sex behind
the hedge. The power

has gone for sale. Bury
your face in colloquies
for an internal search.

A native pain invades the
mannequins. The fine dust
of lies covers the nudity.

Do you need a war stimulant
to dehumanize the killer? He
dragged the kid by hair and

shot point-blank. The saliva
uncoils. You start spitting
everywhere and on the face of god.