.
Do you remember me?
I am gem-eyed, strung on night
Vexed and closed in by time.
When I am dining with dearest
Friends there is always a set
Placed for you, there is always
A story, looming, untold to them,
But not for moon strangers
Who knew even without saying
What was never laid out to us.
Now, eyes are cracked dams
Above the beamed, flood plains,
My heart is rain dented brass,
Bent, out of gear and turns,
Mournful, dried, pocked
As rust, tarnished red,
Petrified.
If I gaze at the diamond moon
In its shock, I am hooked.
When the flower brushes my calves
The lifting scent caresses, teases,
Rising with memory of fire and stone.
If I travel home to the buenos air, the Paris,
White balm of the Southern Hemisphere,
La Belle Époque is wearing your column
Dress, the pampas fires and undulates
Like your hair, rays of Polaris star,
Points at me, in dreaming
Of you, dreaming,
My jewel, my,
Little moon.