Influenced By Lingua Franca

Be precise, I would say. 
The definition was changing― of the sand, 
in our eyes. 

Who was going to judge the 
translation of sex? There was no man, no woman 
in terms of misery. 

The nights were deluged. 
Days dry. My grains refuse to grow under― 
the timeless sun. 

The mother tongue is 
laced with fluid endurance. I stand in 
a storm, breathless. 

The absent death 
mocks at the living dead. How many times 
you will go to the river?