Returning from you , we thought of you, we who are your journeymen as your big round eyes burned into our tired backs.
The sea was calm, yielding but a little orange dusk. We had a talkative middleman and some flowers to look into your eyes and ask all our questions.
Our minds went blank, capturing your stony beauty. We forgot to ask why you had made these images only to break them ,one by one, into fine powder.