The Delgue

Blood side by side.
Your risqué humor
ejects the foul nerves.

No religion was my
mother. My prayers were meant
for undying.

The vital fluid boils
without sun.

Pythagoras comes back
to retrieve the numbers.
The mystical figures have failed.

Not afraid of fear.
clenching my fist, one day,
I have to meet my other self.