To Jane Campion
I am going to touch the keys in the end of the world
I am going to hang an arpeggio of the last wave
until the kiwi loses the horizon
until the God-man extracts of the sea Island of the South
and sing the whales
I am going to touch to alarm
I am going to raise the piano to the mountain
so that the wind passes between his ropes.
Make me love
until the crust of the kowhai dresses itself of yellow
New Zealand tremble if you put your hands in mine
I am going to touch the keys in the end of the world
I am going to touch when the fingers pull up me
although I have to die inside the piano.
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