Poems

A woman works

She spins. She embroiders landscapes
that the dream gives away
When crossing the line
of the forbidding King,
 
the gaze
and desire are united
 
On another woman
a woman rubs her moon
of silk leaves
the woods rise
 
Red is the sail
Nocturnal the ship
 
sails
 
The owner of an immense bay,
she lets herself be roamed
 
by a woman
naked on deck,
she, the moon,
that the moon embraces

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