we make way through the forest torn by the past day’s heat
the sun stung in the soles by thorns
leaves its blood to the horizon
into a fauvist landscape’s dusk

on my left, Manuela crushing the tall herbs
evening reared over the chilly trees
and her hands reminding me of
water willows on lake shores

somewhere far away a water’s awaiting us
knowing the sister-thirst that dwells us
its roaring – cool shadow over our eardrums
darkness – gigantic tongue licking the frail traces of light
left from the day resembling a Chinese fried ice-cream
and through places where, in the past, tyrannosaurs used to run free
macetes cut the green juicy meat of the grass

the road to the river is just a long scream
bursting out of our sight

those who once lived
those who once passed through this tall grass
are now breathing through each leave’s pores
and the fear is increasing as a wild flower in our hearts

I watch Manuela’s hair
its unplaiting is this place’s fragrance and mystery
just a few moments away
and I’ll be quenching her thirst from
my palms

we go ahead
and behind us
the looks of those who once lived
burn harder

Manuela squeezes my hand
her fear cools my
veins downtrodden by the burning behind

thoughts sizzle in between my temples
breaking the porcelain silence
so reminding me that
we are the ones who once lived