In any country, there is a field and it is surrounded by wire that is barbed. La barbarie is infectious. On your tongue it is beautiful, but you are already dead.

This is what my language said in reply.

This is what my book concealed.

And so I burned it.

And so we bled.

And a flame hides nothing of what burns.

And my thigh still grows a city.

And you will not name it.




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