I´m tired of hunting the gorgeous panther.
My hunger and my thirst are like thunder crashing.
Dragging my heavy ideas to the edge of the swamp.
Where I will drink the murky water
and fish for scarcity.
There humidity and mosquitos worship me,
kissing my shoulders and turning me into a gold statue
without a cure.
I´m dizzy now, afflicted with so much flattery
and inflammed bites.
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