In your closet filled with golden braids,
you marry yarn to your skin;
Wrapping every indifference
like a cat that has been reined in.
You will never remember honesty;
Not like you did before,
because guilt has set his spell on you
woven under your scars.
All the orphans raise their empty hands—
even though they do not know the words.
All our sons are uniformed soldiers now—
as they follow another man’s sword.
Although I have nothing left
and all my past is worthless and sworn,
I will continue on until my body says,
“you have tortured me and I want no more.”