Only Flowers

What pleases our eyes is not dangerous enough.

Kaz Tanahashi

So, in the face of this silence,

this abundance,

this undertow of desire

I close my eyes and breathe,

an heir who leans to inhale

the final breath of the departing

to keep this knowledge in the world.

Oranges are often to be found here,

and we imagine the corner

of a field where birds gather.

When the god laughed the fourth time

nothing happened.

The gasp of irony

entered time in this disguise

and the god stood still,

like a man with his hand in his mouth,

to leave the joke unspoken,

saying it was nothing.

My face in your pillow, I thought you

patron saint of queens and of the poor,

the bread you carried in your apron

transformed by a miracle into flowers.

This is the fragrance that draws the root

into moist earth,

draws the child from its hammock and room

to light. It is this

soul follows across the world,

out of marvel and stupefaction.

Lying here, your smells lingering

on my body like disbelief,

shall I believe I am the king of Spain?

Do you remember light coming in

through the blinds?

Come to think of it, we

are common people,

and we are blessed with noses.