(Para Don Gabriel)
Memories of my forgetful mind
Come as dreams at midnight--
Crimson lips and olive curves
Of dead melancholy whores.
Love in the sea and stormy wind
Like loud waves swallowing tides
And wrecking paddles and canoes
Also dies as if in time of cholera.
One hundred touching hands
Hold my back, my willing arms
Reduced to bones by seasons,
Wrinkled by years of solitude.
Chronicle of supple cotton pillows,
Knitted blankets, and warm bodies
Is long-buried in my dimming eyes
That have seen a death foretold.
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