Women by the Sea

Women by the Sea

Confused your hair with your hair

have the happy body to be so yours and

so dense in full freedom.

They throw their arms across the beach and whiteness

of his wrists penetrates the foams.

Sharp-winged birds pass and the curves of their

eyes prolong the endless trail in the sky

White.

With their mouths to the horizon, they long for

mind the virginity of a born world.

The tip of your fingers touches the top of

delight and vertigo where the air ends and begins.

And on his shoulders is a seaweed, happy to

be so green.