VISION OF THE KEYS
I glimpse only
a skate rusted by tears
and a very black fountain with some keys
shining up from the bottom.
- Juana Rosa
I know the fountain in the courtyard of your house
the leaves that fall endlessly
the sky descending like calm.
I enter it
touched by hands
that took care of you as a child.
You were only the name,
the notice on the envelope,
an absence.
The echo remains and is barely audible:
your footsteps around the fountain,
your hands at the piano,
the wound of your life that is its voice,
the space of your body peopled by fish,
the seed of the poem that was going to be,
the keys in the water, eyeless .
Then came the ascending spiral, the vertigo,
the oracles like many roads.
And on one of those roads
our letters met
as if we had arrived one day
in the courtyard of your house
Now, from such distance
your poem arrives,
as if delivered from emptiness.
Time moves .
Love,
let us go as in a dream
to the edge of the fountain
and, among toys and Sundays, gathered from the bottom
we shall take the keys
that have been waiting there for centuries.
