The desert is after a silence of the sea,
is the ecstasy of light on the heart of the sand.
Go out and turns and forgets nothing.
Everything is hidden and then go to see
At the point where the winds cross
And souls cry out in the bottom of the wells.
The baskets up and down promising water
A freshness that melts the fever.
There are dates that sweeten the mouth,
is the beauty of women disguising
desire as a sin in the darkness veils.
Snakes whistle or sing
As the poison that shapes them blood.
curl up on the rocks
as fragments of the moon waiting for the morning.
And the shadow stretches in the dunes Waving palms close to the
As the last snake children's fears.
There is more noise than this silence
What is served with dates and at the table with tea
undergrowth, on the wet ground.
is in styling that is not infinity. Jose Jorge
Letria
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