The tears of a crowd of very old children
I string them on a white hair
I throw the wet chain into the air
and wish that I had a mother
no sun shines for me
There was no breast that cried milk
There is a tube that sticks in my throat
I have no navel on my stomach
Mother
I was not allowed to lick any nipples
and there was no fold to hide in
no one gave me a name
fathered in haste and without sperm
I have sworn tonight
For the mother that never gave birth to me
I will send her a sickness
and afterwards let her sink in the river
Mother
An eel lives in her lungs
on my forehead, a birthmark
I remove it with the kiss of a knife
even if it causes me to die
Mother
An eel lives in her lungs
on my forehead, a birthmark
I remove it with the kiss of a knife
even if it causes me to bleed to death
Vova
