buried bones

The waves bring back buried bones to life. From beneath the crampled carcass of the lake seethe the songs of the dead. Bones once quiet now lay scattered, tossed away from each other by the current,
by the fish.

A skeleton wails for a lost pair of ribs, which are not devoured by the silt but trapped in another’s coffin. There lying with bones much whiter, still glued to the laughter of the living. The pair of ribs still awaits, certain that completion will come: they feel the tickling of the waves’ tongue in the navel of the hill where they nestle.

our words

the rivers freeze
under our chilly gaze

the leaves rustle
at the slightest quiver
of our scorching tongues

and our words break the earth
into million gaping wounds

zigzagging
in a dizzying speed
to devour us