“Beyond every essence, a new essence awaits.”
C. Milocz
We descend into tunnels built by slaves,
roaming alone, in me catacombs open
Tourmaline waves speak to me
I hear their roaring koan, in me the ocean opens
Houses formed on monsoon hills, one over another
slip into seafoam, in me fragility opens
The flamboyant tree unfurls its red-tipped wings
over Pelourinho, its seeds blown, in me desire opens
A monarch butterfly ascends to my window
in tangerine tones, in me a journey opens
A boy in shadow crafts me a rose of coconut palms,
in me a shadow rose opens
The Church of Bom Fim wraps scarlet strings
around wrists and bones, in me devotion opens
Twilight falls on the Bay, the light
pools silver and stone, in me Deborah opens