“The child doesn’t know you, nor does the afternoon,
because you have died forever.”
— Lament for Ignacio Sánchez Mejías, Federico García Lorca

Not his real name but all I knew.

He never locked his door. He left his cult in India. Where a child died.

He sang. The voice of a choir boy. Eyes. Of one possessed.

Principles blind. A knife slashes the eye of night. Starlight in the distance. The waves white fingers slipping through the sand.

The matador turns. Blood and sand. ¡Que no quiero verla! A song in a silent film.

dawn song
the last maple leaf
covered in snow

Note:
¡Que no quiero verla! – I don’t want to see it! (from Lament for Ignacio Sánchez Mejías by Federico García Lorca)

Robert Witmer