Silent Fatima In Her Name

Replies that shook the dusk
"Of course!" They sent the
Flittering wind into a flurry:
She is hidden, but alive.

There has never been
Anyone like her,
Since we left Africa;
Who really knows?

She climbs rivers of satin
When she walks in her heels.
No one can remember
What she's just said.

When she pauses to ponder
Her next wistful word,
Japanese Emperors curse
Chinese peasants' dream.

Bestow her with fragrance
Of continental gestures,
Breathe in her laughter, through the chest,
But stay free to compose, the new Latin.

A skin smooth and glowing
Borrowed from the first Fatima,
Descends with all its beauty
Into the Sumerian bed.

Could she be Diana personified?
The answer is disturbed
By the waves of endless nights.
She fades away as the heart skips a beat.