Dogs of Tobacco—V
When wild animals awake they want to feed upon immortals without children, see the pencil of the blind man, feel the embrace that must have come with those old balsa rafts. Awake regaining life they tell their tales in jaw-breaking whispers weave braids of corn silk sew tight the womb of a fig. They leave nothing in peace they break everything they wreck our blood and as a project for the moribund they revive them only to bite them shortly after on the femur. Sometimes they offer to accept our prayers but for sure when they awake their teeth are boiling in a sickened mouth.
— translated from the Portuguese by Alexis Levitin