Luminous Elegy I was lava, and learned to smile. The basalt heads laugh at the moss, and the rain whistles their names. I was iron, and rust became colour: an ember that time lit slowly. I was paint, and I danced. Bodies of orange and turquoise, a crowd laughing at itself, and in the midst, with a golden halo, someone who is playing too. I leave the blue where one floats, the lit doorway, the iron sun, the chair open to whoever arrives. If the question had no answer, it was so that we might go looking. I do not leave: I scatter. Whoever looks, stays with us. Whoever dreams, wakes inside the dream.