The daughter was beautiful,
and pretty like a thunderbolt,
restless like the wide sea and
all others which had destruction
in their breaths
and she was quiet like all
the deep and tough things
like the empty blue above us
like the marble that sparkles
in the sunshine
and she inherited her
mother’s mind of a sprite
and she could solve riddles
indecipherable as if nature
couldn’t hide anything
from her
and all who came to her
acquaintance, and all who
saw her fell in love and
as if pierced by Hades’ spear
they all died.
Libros Libertad 