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    Venice III, Prayer

    He looks at her
    He talks to her – regardless.
    Touches her adrift hair.
    Tells her everything.

    He says
    I’ve never stopped building bridges to you batuffolo mio for you towards us I gave them names after your favourite songs imagine people going by cars trucks bicycles listening to my music my saxophone birds trees imagine their eyes yes yes trees do have eyes imagine their eyes wondering smiling remembering alive I wed the worlds I am a Minister of Love don’t laugh I am I am
    says he.

    on a bridge of his – waving.
    Under his wings
    dozens of sails
    white and wet
    shuddering in the wind.