Fall down.
Strange gods arrive in fast enemy poses.
Their shirts are soft marrying cloth and hair together.
All along their arms ornaments conceal veins bluer that blood pretending welcome.
Soft lizard eyes connect.
Their soft drained insect cries erect new fear,
where fears reign.
The rustling of sex against their skin.
The wind withdraws all sound.
Stamp your witness on the punished ground.
