XVI.

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Underneath a seashell fountain I plait my dampening hair,each strand a clemency, a frail glimmer enfolded around my childlike fingers,each strand black, each strand ashen: I am a woman, I am my mother

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Underneath a seashell fountain I plait my dampening hair,
each strand a clemency, a frail glimmer enfolded around my childlike fingers,
each strand black, each strand ashen: I am a woman, I am my mother.
The moon, the orchid behind his ear, the blue night—
I clasp it and entwine it into my braid.


He sails upon a sea speckled with cerise plumerias,
which he caresses with his thumb as he collects them for me,
whistling; announcing he is coming.
The moon, my bedroom eyes, the blue night—
he clasps it and entwines it into the seawater.

The moon, my bedroom eyes, the blue night—he clasps it and entwines it into the seawater

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