and part of this poem by joseph ceravolo:
tell us where o eat to stop and eat.
the diner is never gonna come.
the forest things are passing.
i did drink my milk
like a mother of wolves.
wolves on the desert
of ice cold love, of
fireproof breasts and the breast
i took like snow.
following me
i love you
and i fall beyond
and i eat you like a
bow and arrow withering in the
desert.
