Yesterday I was optimistic as the sun, broad as the sky, impish as the morning mist. Now I bleed, slowly, like a finger through my letterbox. Today,the sky-hooks are embedded in my fllesh again, and I am dead inside.

The rainwhich beatsupon the glasspoints thewayto poisongas. The sunwhichwarms the stagnant poolgoes down atduskand leaves itcool. The cloudsmushroomingoverheadtell us there’smuch more todread. The lightning strokewhich tears theskycarries deathto low and high. Good and evil,love and hate,they’re all waiting at the gate.Betrayal, fear,pain, and deathcan be feltin every breath.

once my belly was as full as the moon, till God scowled upon my boy and made him die; now we are afraid to speak to one another, you and I, lest we bring him back to us.