Your guilt is enormous—
brimming with stolen tin trinkets
and rushed sugar drops
gulped behind the shop keeps back
bottles dropped in the chase
steep the dirt with spirits.
The accusers all long dust—
dim flicker in the gullet of a fading star
slides off into silence.
All long dust, the accusers—
those imposing giants, fates
who wield glint scissors in twitch fingers
fade behind a grimace
that dissolves, drips from a skull
crossed by the weight of stone
upon stone, dots in a fieldful
of bone of rock grinding round
the crush of sand
that whooshes away into void.
Dim flicker in the gullet of a distant star
slides of into silence.
9.XII.2008
San Andrés de la Cal