I have exhausted my possessor [whoever she is].
She is tired of me [if she is tired of me, then what is left].
I have no more room for mercy.
Sing the song for the endless woman:
I am violent and everyone applauds.
I am soft and no one believes me.
I walk into your home naked and joyful.
You take turns naming my body.
I create a myth and everyone sings for me.
I kill the myth and everyone cries for her.
It is [is it] true; I am everything my mother wanted me to be:

Wanted
with a world
and wound in it.