At the bottom
of a bottle
of mezcal
–like at the end–
waiting for us
is the worm.
I chew
in dry earth
that whiteness
of living hedgerows
to know
the taste
of what will eat me.
translated by Katherine M. Hedeen
At the bottom
of a bottle
of mezcal
–like at the end–
waiting for us
is the worm.
I chew
in dry earth
that whiteness
of living hedgerows
to know
the taste
of what will eat me.
translated by Katherine M. Hedeen
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