Tendre (Aragón, 2015)

Shh. My skin is water

contained by will

in the roots of a leafless


Shh. The alpine pool

of isolation flows

every man’s seed

frozen in time

while the Indian girl

harvests the fields

for meagre coins,

post-surgical nights.

Memories, shh, of citrus sky

sting a thousand needles

not enough anaesthesia.

(but there is not

a leafless


— a solitary one — )

and language's not enough

(like the tongue and the light):

melanoma planted in the land

and was caressed

in bed, the Indian girl

made sand

and, shh,

and radioactive air.

By Angel Aragón.