Nothing shines

campesina-Konstantin Vasilyev

The Reaper. Konstantin Vasilyev, 1966.

 

The abandoned moon,
A lighthouse of little interest
Suspended from a network of fibers
Dark and convoluted.

A star beyond
It lights a place so folded
In its own depth,
Whose blue does not yet wake up.

Gray clouds stained red
Threaten to cut
The helpless print
Of, without grace, intergalactic travelers.

Corpuscles, light waves
Crash into the ivory surface
Of an enchanted marsh
Muddy, funereal.

But nothing shines
In the way the flowered crack
Of the basin of her eyes,
Embrace the cold of darkness.

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