for E., the artist
The moon, it staggers
in the starless night:
Some may see it as an
enduring friend;
Some may see it as the
ruddy face of a farmer;
And some may see it as a
sickled grin:
But I must repeat what the
poet says:
‘Debajo de tu piel
vive la luna:’1
it shines only to remind
me of you
1. Neruda