Love is the health of the monkey.
The eyes of the saint donkey marked by seeing
the quiet rust of the cisterns.
Wind that sharpens the grass, the ultraviolet chalice,
of the evening as a radiant latitude.
Or the sea and the afternoons
composed by the nymphal sheath of the cicada.
Prove me your happiness
in the carcass of the everyday
that you gnaw until there is light, light…