Colours
City smog diaphanous blue
gasps like a gazelle’s neck
tightly held in the lion’s jaws
and her mound’s thin hair
as soft as the breeze
amid my fingers
touching, feeling smoothness
lustrous purple dusk
divided in two equal parts
immense in our internal mirror
on her hand a bit of yellow
and a rose, fiery red
for her bloodied path
to the faraway land and
to the stern knee of the Kore
that transforms
the beauty of earth into
an amphora of limpidity
Libros Libertad 