To the kid Ellis
/ traquel
Ellis, when the blackbird calls in the woods,
That's your undoing.
Your lips drink the coolness of the blue rock spring.
When your forehead bleeds
Never mind the ancient legends
And the obscure meaning of bird flying.
And you walk into the night,
Covered with purple grapes,
You wave your arms more beautifully in blue.
A rustling bush,
They have your eyes like the moon.
Oh, Ellis, how long have you been dead?
Your body is hyacinth,
A monk dipped wax fingers into it.
Our silence is a black cave.
Sometimes out of it came a tame beast
Slowly let down her heavy eyelids.
The black dew drops on your temples,
The last gold of the meteorite.
Green dates