crumbling world falls through my hands. in my mouth taste bitter sands. grass is burning, pulse is slow. drip by drip my back- wards growth ....crawl fade to hate. and I'll die within my fade- wine, song, women, birth – this deflowered mother earth planting, plowing, how she grieves. the seeds that grow these dying trees. Crawl... fade to hate. and I'll die within my fade fade to hate. and I'll die within your fade