IV
The neglected one deep inside her victorious sleep
holding an apple in her right hand and caressing the sea
with her left hand.
She suddenly unfolds her beautiful eyes
that are only a breath, the echo of a cannon blast.
She’s the bicycle rider, his beloved and the flower vase
she’s the heart’s moan, smoke of the mining sites
the hatred of bodies that join and sink in a rage
she’s a tender kiss at the border of lust
when five deaths are sown among the daisies
she’s the shadow of her beloved who just passed.
