And you thought I was the same
That you could forget about me
That I flail, praying, eyes aflame
Under a horse’s hoof and knee
Maybe I’ll ask the wise matriarch
Among other things for a backbone
And I’ll give you a gift quite stark
A beloved scarf like my own
Go to hell. Don’t yell out or stare
Your soul is made out of taboo
On the sacred garden I swear
On divine icons I'll swear anew
And on our fiery nights of flare-
I will never come back for you