Psalm

You came in by shattering the wall, new weapons on Your shoulders: Our Lady of Venom and large bowls of young

bull\'s blood.

My two hand are cold, I said to You,

and that\'s just fever that warms me.

If it keeps snowing all winter,

I shall crawl on my knees under the skies. I feed on

Your works

as a wolf feeds on the jugular vein.

I shall create the world as You wanted it:

with indistinct flavors on guard in mandolins. With heavy

grass-beds harbouring legions of bridegrooms.

With flames and bitter preserves.

I shall build the world on musical sounds that befog

one\'s body and wear out one\'s soul. Touched by a flow

of brown butterflies.

A fleeting thought stuns me: am I

Your creatures\' keeper and know it not?