Possessed I dug into
this strange land, deep I
went into the alleys and
corridors, and found
finally this strange thing

Warm, colourful, exhaling coolness,
it had many sides and pores
like windows set on the stony bones.

It was like a city, of jutting balconies
with lovers kissing wordlessly,
expressing the semantics of their bodies,

and many pained faces, fading in
the bedrooms and kitchens,
their figures charcoal in the belly
of a black and red furnace,

in this the life was coming out;

up, towards, against all coming
like a film-reel set on fire by
the sunlight of many countless
small experiences.

This small thing amazed me.

Enchanted, I could
barely conclude that
it would be priceless.

But I couldn’t tell what it was,
until you read this poem,
and found out just what I’d
secretly discovered in you.