A shaman once told me

 

A shaman once told me
that You’d have crossed my mane
like a piercing perforating the flesh
You were the wind
storming my cheeks
the night sun
when smoke is all around
what an idiot I was
thinking that summer could end
at the edge of your shadow
You were a white asparagus
Whereas I,
I was the smell of changed urine
after your triumphant passage

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