The dove for the cheina by Sebastião Alba
Points of view
intersect the bullets
and we rehearse the dove
by drawing it, curving its
back before flight,
dropping it into the pure prism
of the crowd's gazes
Soon a fleeting star
sticks to its beak
It will whirl in the sky between colossal columns
of mushrooms
and suns that inflect it
but nestled well in the hollow
cabin of feathers
with the key in our hand.
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