For Magritte

the day sounds lullaby blue
and fills the mouth
with horizon

through the
hush-hush of the lapping water
the wind is holding its breath
quiet
serene

faraway silence
thickens
in the summer noon
everyone is sleeping
(waiting)
just a moment in time

a leaf comes to rest
gentle
on the windowsill
time a looped
de ja vue

and She
still as stone
Madrid Red stains her temple
Salty, tepid

She,
alone in the blue

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