in your presence
i cry blood
and write scriptures
with my tongue

and i write 
in tongues
and dialect
understood by
the wind

and the wind
with which i write
carries the moon
to your doorstep
and you sink
your teeth in

now you open
your mouth 
to speak
but only
galaxies appear

a bright white light
of the Sagittarius

and i’m swinging on
the stars which you spat

my spine flints
and sets 
my fingers in flames 

and i write
these here words
that are written