Heir to your absence
bowed over a paper dissection table
I feed with what memory can bear
the flowers of a dark Eden.
In this necrophagous garden
among carnivorous predators —
bruises, bites
fragments, worn bones —
until, in the end,
those who vanish
become flowers.

After the award-winning "He, the Lower Sky," Giannis Antiochou returns with a work that refracts the world as a post-war place. A territory not literal, but existential, historical, spiritual, and thus linguistic. Poetry that does not console but functions as the black box of human demise. Scenes of war, fragments of memory, digital traces, theological fissures, bodies in fragmentation. A dense archive of fragments moving on the edges of language and faith. A poetics of the end that does not seek understanding but inclusion in the awkwardness of the present.