Running dogs

I open, with a silver chisel
                       your breastbone by the half
                     You weep for blood, hair, winter dew
 In your golden chest I am a mirror
                          where you do not look
              Sparkles
 Your eyes already rolling
                   also by your broken ankles
            When your opened abdomen goes out
                        I am: I turn into a dog
 Barking I come to the world
                           in a canine language
                 Barking
                                    Naked fangs
           bile in the eyes
                         The blood in the nose is
 a rabid river
                In the city I find more dogs
running
           with their umbilical cords
                    Curled in their necks of clay
                                  I sink, again
                 Soft clay
 To the shore of the petrified sea
                  a black effigy in the night
                                                       floating.