sun of kashiva

When I turn to see
The space left behind me
Sometimes I see the face
Of a young woman reading late
Into the night
She reads to me of the gardens of the world
The sun rising as the pages turn
And the walls of the room are stretched with birds
And branches high
Shell holes showing in the sky
But we didn't know
How far to go

The window in front of me
That leads to the lanes of the lost city
Abandoned without trace
Walking backwards so I could see your face
Uprooted vineyards olive groves
Walking in darkness unclothed
And all our history lies there left exposed

Your hot breath on my cheek
Your broken nose and perfect teeth
Leaping voiceless into the deep