Explorers

Some crater ashes feel like pure silk,

some- like satin clouds

showering  an invisible surface,

resting their shade above the cold body of sand

and layers of still water

whose blue is always tempted

to bring back the scents of a dormant season

when your skin felt  like a map.

A perfect set of continents
surrounded by ink-oceans,

lots of significant dots, lines and circles

to zoom in and out through memory

or, depending on the climate,

another scale model of lost reality.

For so many years on end,
(I could swear it for both now)

there was an intersection

between latitude and longitude right there;

So much youth, so much beauty

- maybe too much love-

in the center of a dry, unmapped river bed.