Black Anemones

Mother, you watch me sleep

and your life

is a large tapestry

of all the colors

of all the most ancient

murmurs,

knot after twin knot,

root after root of story.

You don't know how fearful

your beauty is while I sleep.

Your hair is the moon

of a sea sung in silence.

You walk with silver lions

and wait to estrange me

deep in the rug

covered with sorrow

embroidered by you

in a fierce symmetry

binding with thread

of Persian silk

the pinetrees and the griffins.

You call me blind,

you touch my eyes

with Black Anemones.

I am a spider that keeps spinning

from the spool in my womb

weaving through eyes

the dew of flames

on the web.

_Translated from Pizzaro's Spanish_