Lying wet, the object I saw
in this red morning, on a bed made of stones.
Legs in the air, like a nympho slut,
burning and sweating poisons�
Open, cynic and cut
her womb full of exhalations.
The morning sun reflect
on this putrid womb
As the skies looked down the carcass
the world gave back a strange choir;
chanting Satanas:
Crawling�in pestilence obscene
The Burning dawn rises in my eyes
Forms were erased and nothing but a dream,
A slow outline to come on the forgotten womb,
only by a sight of memory survived
yet similar to this refuse,
Crawling�in a devotion obscene
The Burning dawn rises in my eyes
Swallowed � in misery
Cursed eternally
O horrible infection, foul of my eyes,
vermin of nature, passion angels!
Such you will be, � worms of life,
after thy last sacraments, mildewing among the bones
