At the side of the road, the two bodies
Side by side:
From a distance they seem to be making love.

A man and a young girl, slim,
Warm forms
Lying on the grass, devouring each other.

Tightly embracing their waists
Those young arms.

One thinks:

Perhaps they dream, their two mouths,
Their silences, their hands, their eyes, yielding.

But there is no kiss, only the wind,
Only the dry air
Of the summer without movement.

They have fallen one besides the other,
Dead,
At the side of the road, the two bodies.

They must have been slender their two shadows
Languishing,
Adoring each other in the afternoon.

And they must have been terrible their two faces
Confronting
The threats and the flashes of lightning.

Their bodies are of stone, of nothing,
They are make-believe, mutilated bodies.

Ignorant of their fate, their death,
But now, viewed from a short distance,
Quarry of voracious black birds