the sky falls into her mind
flushing her ocean worries
out with winds of blue agave
sucking the nectar of the breasts of the mountains
her soul wants to know the truth
in mirrors of her nightmares
is this my fate?
licking the insides of his deepest fears
washing her hands
so many germs running in the thoughts of the leaders
can they wash their hearts?
a virus has been here for a while her daughter says from above
"how can you be talking to me? You have yet to be born?"
about the gods and the goddesses
who fight along angels on the other side
pushing me into walls, corners, edges of cliffs
contemplating the essences of breath
watching storms of the youth
drench the fire of the old
feeling a pit of desolation
remembering the past
reminding her with a tap on the forehead
You Are Not Her