The Sunset of Shadows

At the end of the sound of footsteps

there await us

sirens from the rocks

and, amorphous, obscure,

a mournful roar.

Serene, smiling, I surrender

to the sunset—

a bodiless sun

stretched across the horizon.

· · ·

For, born free,

I feel myself in the word:

accursed sand,

I sing to you.

A lawn of obscene thirst.

Wooden thoughts,

drifting,

carry me beneath the water's name.

· · ·

I only want one more moment

to forget that I lived,

to forget that I loved

on earth.