Woke up with dry tongue.
Once again I breathed the entire night with open mouth.
The taste of spiders at my palate is remarkable.
I shuddered at the thought of how many
this night
were crawling into my mouth.
Nibbling the orts of dinner from my teeth.

Overnight
snow had fallen.
I discover footprints of mice in the folds of the snow-covered carpet.
Apparently, the roof disappeared.

In the distance I hear a chimney sweep,
didn`t understand what he says.

The neighbor replied.
It`s within my grasp.

Everything has turned into the contrary.
Inside to outside, outside to inside.
The seed
Fear
germinates.
Trickles.

My skin is damp.
My diaper wet, sure, I should not drink before I go to sleep.
I am having bad dreams, and in those dreams...
You are invisible and odorless.

Your tears turn to ice, then snow.
It lies down quietly on my eyes,
everything fades into a blurry picture of our dying love.
I will not get up.
Salt between my toes hurt.
Crows pluck nose hair of old men from their caves.

My belly is swollen. The skin moves like ocean waves.
I bear brown cellar spiders.
Hundreds of thousands, with sticky legs and glittering eyes.
They drink sour milk from my swollen nipples.
They drink greedily, continually. Until blood flows.
Mice climb the painful hills of my breasts.
Squishing they eat the spiders. One after the other.
Blood and milk
squirts
squirts
squirts

Then come the crows.
With hard beaks they tear the mice.
The sky is black.
Feathers, blood, milk and snow mix to a slimy mush.
Hunters falling across the stone walls, they shoot sharp.

A bullet penetrates my anus.
Shredded my viscera.

Darkness.
Silence.
 
Soon is Christmas.
I guess I'm a thorn in the eye of God.

©wortflorist