A Fantasia for the city of Cordoba

                          To Emily 

An arch tightens 

in the distance

brimming with strings of fire 

which bind word by word 

                  like hooks 

                  biting red

I go up like balloons 

to the sun's swarm 

with a honey lollipop

                  and I spread it's drops 

                  over a rhythm of columns 

you laugh a white dove 

and stone mourns

water on water: 

 a rain of coins 

we eat oranges, in the patio, 

between the tiles 

a guitar sings blue 

when my wet hand rolls

all over your dress

a woman is crying daffodils 

I pick and gather some 

to lay on your breath

as in a splintered swing  

walking the Jewish neighborhood

is like stepping on a ghost

while the scent of tea 

lingers in your hair

and a moon of salt 

hits and hits against the walls 

your eyes are happy

overflowing green 

like lemonade 

always my dark song 

turns the cypress trees 

Everything is a plastic straw spinning  in the wind.