AND

A book of days 

and a verse made of nocturnal syllables

The sweet fragance of flowers at night

and the tiny, even sweeter trace of a recalled moment

The taste of salt from yesterday's twilight

and the kamikaze dive of seagulls

The somberness of some thoughts

and the tides that wash them down

The newly-found harmonies

and the screaming dissonances

A shiny shell found in the sands

and the echo of a silvery voice

The stony vessel that takes me into the night

and its austral, unbelievable moon.

Sándalo Naranja