First in this week…
We walk, hand in hand, to the shore,
up to the small promontory, and we see our island:
it is cold today, but we don’t feel it.
Our bare feet slide over the rock,
Your empty eyes turn toward me, my love,
asking me, in silence,
if I am ready to start our voyage.
I smile, my frozen heart reaching yours,
for I know we belong there,
you and me, for ever, under the heavy stone,
below the chapel,
where once, long ago,
they burned us at the stake.