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Let the ground split open. Let earth deface
the one injured, the one in pain. May stones

take me far down into their chill embrace.
Without you I pray to be just rock-bones

frothing green-jasper that injured no one
flint-flakes for the want of a tongue, my stump

broken-topaz, a prairie in the sun,
citrine-red winter’s run rapture. I slump

against a blue wall. Everyday I vow
to give up writing words. Winter draws near.

All of nature soon sleeps. But I’m awake.
I seethe. I’m what gets left behind, somehow.

Let me crumble into chalk. All I fear
leaves me sleepless, a thing of want and ache.


Queime a terra, e transformar a minha carne em pedra.
Gire-me em algo bonito, mas sem graça.
Você fez a minha feiúra sentir divino.


Burn the land, and transform my flesh into stone.
Turn me into something beautiful but dim.
You made my ugliness feel divine.