Venice III, Prayer

He looks at her
absent.
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.

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