[.iii.]

the skull of the sea shines in the andean páramo
in the middle of a pack of trees an arcane song
announces the birth of night


                               -pampachamuni apullay uyahuanquichu, manachu?-


i  have   heard   the   sweet   madness  growing   in   your   blood   just  like  a  cetacean
wallowing in the vine of stars


                                                      [the night will protect us from this insectivore nightmare]
                                                                                                       tukuy yawar ninchis quespin kaiku

                                                                          [we belong to the wind and its ancestral desires]
                                                                                                      tukuy yawar ninchis quespin kaiku

         -the remnants of an andean constellation kissing the skin of rhinoceri-
         -the remnants of an andean constellation kissing the blood of rhinoceri-
         -the remnants of an andean constellation kissing the ashes of rhinoceri-
         -the remnants of an andean rhino kissing the blood of constellations-

                                                                    Ñawpa pachapi
  

-the remnants of a constellation bristling the wind shatter the andean night-

because at night I get up to see if you’ve reincarnated from the dust in my hands
pampachamuni apullay uyahuanquichu, manachu?
because in exiled nights I rise to see if your blood lies once again in silence over the
constellation of trees and the desert in its death throes agonizes in my skin
pampachamuni apullay uyahuanquichu, manachu?

we will return to the wind and its psalm in the throes of agony that day by day feeds
our words
pampachamuni apullay uyahuanquichu, manachu?

     -the remnants of a constellation bristling the wind thread the memory of our

                                                      children in the song of night-
  

                                                               freezed fireflies hatch from our tracks lick the face of
                              trees as bodies attached to the nectar of the rocks release a prophecy
                                                                                    ¡tukuy yawar ninchis quespin kaiku!

        -the remnants of a constellation bristling the wind break the andean night-

our days have returned to the red chord of the conch shells the breath of the sunset
flooding with babbling electricity this andean land we will say again our prayer of
forgetfulness ¡tukuy yawar ninchis quespin kaiku! thinking about how to wound a bird’s flight
or the warm flesh of the andes and to yell
-without hatred- behold here who forgets you while dying behold here who blasphemes
on your land behold here who now asks you to sink your fingers in their eyes serenely
caress their nerves and fill you with rage eden is death galloping in the damp horizon
sprouting from the womb of those trees you taught me to love
we are the mud

                                            where nobody will sink their hands…