AN UPDATE OF OUR FALL
The hair delicate
The waves combed it
As if composing lines
Lamenting the deed
The mouth is turned away
From the salt and sand
The ear a pearl’s shell
The murmurs of the tale still wet
To us he shows
Not his bright face
But his back
At us he looks
Not with the keen eyes
But with the soles of the sandals
A picture of parts
An update of our fall
The tiny palm of his hand
Cupped
Mute petals
Beyond time
Beyond border