The river flows, wanton and uncaring, sometimes it diverges, and sometimes the water dries, and yeah, the heavens don’t give a fuck, if they sense a hint of disobedience, you'll die, again and again, just a circulation, slicing pieces of meat, from your arms and legs, allowing others to feed, those you offended, the sun and the moon, have so many interests, good and evil, just an ant, floating on a leaf, on a river, not daring to care about anything, hoping to pass through, unblemished, wishful thinking, my shadow, my reflection, like bread, divided into multiple pieces, like mother Mary, feeding both men and women, the town, it’s painted red, and the river is drenched in blood, yeah, I smell it, but the vast expanse of the universe, not much really matters, so much is arranged to be perfect, a growing cultivation, a spiritual sea, expanding, and expanding, what can a worm do, the heavens watch, but they really can’t care enough…

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