It was the kind of sea
that will always be there.
It is only necessary to close
the eyes for an instant to remember
that doleful smile; the proximity
of your coffee-skin stretched
as a drum across
your delicate sadness.
Confronted with the restless wilderness
there was only your expanding sense
of homelessness: the sea
must always lay it bare.
I shall close my eyes often.
My vision begins with a cream horizon;
dark waters against the darkening heavens:
there is a thin line of radiance
edging left, then right, and the breeze;
the gentle breathing of a presence
that is guaranteed to conjure
moments such as these and engineer
the miracle of their complete recall.
Olinda, Brazil ´84.
Photo: Terezinha Borges
