A miscellany by Margarita
Your eyes a sunrise,
your navel a mandala,
your beauty was an eighth wonder of the world.
In the morning, the sea’s colour was god-chosen.
****
In February rooms around the country,
begonias are flowering
for the unconcerned to behold.
****
The desire to give you is filling me, an indigo peony,
and its petals are merging from the inside with the skin
of my places.
****
The Baby of The Hound
You are beautiful like interstellar reason,
your miniature black nails – jewels,
your sleep – shiny as your perfect form.
True black – an egg of life.
****
The light smile
of death
is lighting up the world.
