When you burn the air

you burn the air

when the seagulls depart

in a wave

they depart in a wave

when your feet hit the shore

the sand cracks in gladness

when you put your straps on

buds move and flowers reek and scream

to be rooted

when you move your glass

or your sandal

or your finely combed teeth

of a deep and beautiful wound

my knees caress the shore

my elbows face and hands

I worship your diminutive

woman's navel

and let the trees bend

in my bent direction

while you try

all the fibers and smile.