We lay on the rough edges of crumbling rock,
the Balearic sea spread like a silken blanket
an angel blue that makes the sky crack open and sing.
Es Vedra lies to the West,
the gateway to the lost city.
Atlantis remains after its collapse.
The home of sea nymphs and sirens,
luring Odysseus into the voracious mouth of death.
The dwelling place of Tanit, the goddess of fertility
her sacrifices, the cherried blood during full moon.
This limestone rock in the middle of the sea,
the third most magnetic place on Earth.
A symbol of myth and legend,
the untellable, the unknowable, the ungraspable.
Humbled, we watch the spectacle
of light that is the sun
descend.
Atlantis does not feel like the myth of Plato,
but the enigma of now.
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