In Eden who sleeps happiest? The serpent.
The future happens. No matter how much we scream.
Peel your own image from the mirror. Sit. Feast on your life.
Memory that yearns to join the centre, a limb remembering the body from which it has been severed, like those bamboo thighs of the god.
I too saw the wooden horse blocking the stars.
Visual surprise is natural in the Caribbean; it comes with the landscape, and faced with its beauty, the sigh of History dissolves.