Delicate flowers
yellow and pink
in a forgotten garden
in Montegrande
as the scent of lilies
pricked my skin
you touched me, my Lord
right there
and I touched you

We listened

as a withering rose
with its petals
scattered
by the conquering
gust of wind
begged
for one more sunset

You and I found

a jug of water
to give it a drink
and we thanked
that gardener
and in our bubble

you laughing, jumping

for joy
you touched me again

Translation of ‘El Jardin’ by Ariana Dubov