Ankyra Sound five twenty six, nineteen ninety.

sworn to secrecy
is like saying hey,
you don't have to leave
but you can't stay here.
it's a clever guy's way of saying
step off kid,
you've fucked up.

cayentano straightens his back and rises
his back's to the tree
and his mind already plotting three escapes.
this one might not kill him,
but he's said all the wrong things
cayetano's back is up more ways than one.

nah, that won't be necessary.
he's measuring the distance
from his fangs to this man's throat
counting seconds.
i'm gonna go.

if nothing else, he can run
run as he's done since acatenango
run like a blind dog chasing the sun
two steps and he's bolting,
listening for the tell-tale gallup
of sorcerer hot in pursuit.