I love you, in terms of love;
that a star will have for his lune,
that a skull will have for his tomb,
that a bullet will have for his head.

I shall gift you the blossom
of their wounds, with gunshots.
I shall sen you a hymn accompanished
by the whisper of smoothbores.
I shall stitch up a crown of thorns and flowers
made-up with enemies' steel-casted dogtags.