The bull

 

 

 

I have seen the bull.

 

Black as the night, immense as the infinite universe without a soul.

The bull running, its stinking hooves kicking up the dust from the ground.

I have seen the bull. 

 

I see it.

 

The beast approaches, black and immense.

The beast approaches, like my sorrow.

Soon the black of his hair will cover everything.

At his feet, my baby languid, tangled in a blanket stained with soil.

My baby who was all pink and gold. My white milk.

 

I see the bull.

 

And now the black beast conceals the horizon and the sun is no longer felt.

It was there, I still remember it, my baby's mouth warm on my breast.

The bull approaches and the black will cover everything.

My words exorcise, conjure the pain to take away its power.

The wounded earth split open like my belly.

There are no staples or threads to close this wound.

My open belly, the cut land where the waters rush.

 

I have seen the bull. And the words taste like dust in my throat.

Open my pregnant throat as they opened my belly.

Bring out the blood-soaked words.

Cry with me.

Let's mourn together.