Untitled II - Andrei F. Andreescu

I've made her of clay 

And given her life. 

The silhouette stretched on for days 

I've made her of clay

And given her life

But I cleansed my hands, first. 

I've made her of clay 

And I've given her life 

For the eyes, I did not use precious stones 

But stones I had taken from the river. 

I've made her of clay 

And her left breast ended up so perfect, 

I could not master the other. 

The vultures circled, 

Approached, 

And left us, 

to enjoy the sun setting. 

I make her of clay 

And the trinklets of the Orient ring around her thighs. 

I make her of clay 

And I eat it, as in times of hunger. 

The cold, night air stiffens her 

I've made her of clay For it is I who was life