Like a deep skin cut,
it opens, stretches
all your body sketches
in a pain of sin, but
it shows you´re really alive.
Your living flood
runs in a tide of blood
as you fuse with a steely knife.

I feel a deep cut in my skin
every time I see this Fireball
surrender to the dark… in a fall…
such a fall of lust, waking up sin.

Its golden glamour
turns to a red of war
and suddenly its aggressive roar
turns to a saddened grey dark colour.
And my tissues are cut…
One by one…
and my flood… it pumps out, but
My life is shown
in a mix of sin and light.

Written on March the 13th and the 20th, 1990, in Panama City, Panama