MOTHER OF ASIA MINOR

My lady,
You embraced in your dear hug, tightly
like in a pomegranate
both your pain and children
and, from the fissure torn on it
the blood of your heart
flew like a martyr’s

Your ladyship left behind her
fragments of her torn garment

BUT HER ENTIRE BODY
AND MEMORIES
FIGURE A SEAGULL
IN YOUR ENTRAILS.