Crawling On Your Paths

The devil grabs me in every area:
balls, pits, ass, and mouth,
hot water pissed from the sink in winter.

I watched as your face filled up with globules,
whispered my sins in vacant directions,
cried until my mouth filled with dirt.

You keep looking at me with big-pupiled eyes,
carrying the cross, crowned with thorns.
I live seeing almost nothing you show me.

Stepwells beg to be filled with sand.
Falcons suffocate mammals in their talons.
Trapdoors dispense milk and honey in our dreams.