Juan

In a 10’ X 6’ hovel, strapped on hands and back til he’s red Juan said “In one more chamber, just one”.

He's decades younger, & ficus pure & he'd have run —only he!— bare-footed against the rocks, for her

Sorted badly under the rumors, the wine and valley, & the arroyo heat

only she'd have seen (only she) the cross thru a veil

To redden after prayers is to need it, wrapt in armlets

A panel each for their love!