I discovered it
next to the feet
of a tear
Dead
of love
Moored
to the beauty of his wound
Flickering
Alone
For the eyes
forgetfulness
And here is
my hand in its abyss
thawing the syntax
of his blood
of his talismans
and its dock
which is now a graft of salt
Here is
my hand on his face
disfiguring the alphabet
of his loneliness
Now
pronounce this look
what breathes you
Eco of love
(Orlando Medina)
