I find myself in the sewers—

the churning waste is my blood,

the pipelines my veins, the

rats which skitter about 

are myself again

reborn

Last night I took a knife and 

with great care inserted it into

my skin, and dug out all the

unclean rats that swam inside

my blood. Uncannily they

wore my face.

Once the rats were gone and 

done with all the waste spilled out,

leaving me a pure and holy being whose

heart no longer beats.