- Vol. 04
- Chapter 11
Image by Alberto Garduño
Wrapped in wrath he sat Burning at low flame.
Batting eyelashes Like wings, like waving banners.
Crouching under the yoke can be Crouching before the jump:
A spring storing rage, A cactus storing water,
Growing spines as spears, And the sweetest fruit, scarlet like
Quetzal, creature of the sky, Batting his wings. The leaves of
A cactus growing buds, Delicate like freedom.