Salt of the womb. Writhing
Darkness, like sea snakes

Tightening around our necks.
Nooses ready to kill

People ready to die,
Ready to die

Even before birth,
Attached to our navels-

Earth, our mother,
True and sweet.

We lie there, like twins
Between her legs,

You
And I-

Ready to die
Again, newly cleansed

By brimstone, by fire:
Clanging chains, burning temples,

Our early lives
Cast to rubble.