Tracing your topography,
Greenland looms large in its lie,
confessing a distinction only Mongols would deny.
Your blood runs cold in my ears,
your hands chase new memories,
your name, a rasp of old fears,
avoids the danger of
Tracing your topography,
Greenland looms large in its lie,
confessing a distinction only Mongols would deny.
Your blood runs cold in my ears,
your hands chase new memories,
your name, a rasp of old fears,
avoids the danger of