What kind of
flowers
are these
in the pot?
The spill
looks accidental
upon their
chest & eyes
a splash
of deepest
maroon
a splatter,
a delicacy
that
contains
the wound
& go on
with open eyes
If I
was no
longer what
contained
our memories
that love
I would
begin I suppose
a recitation of nights
for nobody’s
benefit,
fussball
on a quiet
square
Santiago
Tuxtla
the sudden
rain a perfect
view from
an expensive
hotel, seized
in 7 photographs
clevely
interescted
later in
New York

