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Part I
"Kiss me with the kisses of his mouth. Your caress praise more than the wine" It's pathetically clear this road, I have only tears in my eyes. They are my tears, do not fear. You were prepared for a long journey, a pretentious one, not less arrogant than the others. Almost indecipherable. But no. Now let me read. The pagan of travel, in the holy book. Books, of course, that make you feel fear and desire. Me - I'm just happy. I am with your. Somewhere the music sounds sophisticated, but everything is so simple in fact. And it hurts. I am insinuating laughing ... The road starts right from my womb rounded as a grapes that can crush almost decaying in your teeth. Melon gloss that shines somewhere in the margins of an imaginary Baragan. It's hot, and the seconds are dissolving in our cascading breath. Somewhere I feel how the waiting and the desire are sparkling in your eyes. I'm fine so you see me, I am strong and obedient. "On the right are loved. You tell me that you love my heart, where you graze your flock, where you rest at afternoon ? Greenery is our bed. Cedars are our homes and cypress beams are our floors. " An indiscreet slip of your gaze make me jerk. A sigh, early, unexpectedly opens senses and your hands stay near my hands now. One in harmony with one another. In an universal balance with my hands. What do you look at now. You look as if I'd never seen before. I did not even seen as I see you now. You. Then I feel how you rebuild, cell by cell, already tired because so much effort, always different and yet so mine. "Taking in possession " whispers somewhere a thought in my mind. What nonsense. I am offering you all my soul, hidden between cypresses that you grow every finger shyness. You see how you're taller pagan temple into an oasis apparent in a deep tranquility. You're my temple. In the right side I've planted cedars in your eyes, and I let you to . rest. Useless toil, already knew . Cypresses have open petals, their scent enveloped me. You are now as I have dreamed, the raw greens we surround and have multiplied beyond measure. The smell creeping staggering. From somewhere above, a bird of Paradise plays the most beautiful love poem . Part II "Strengthen me with raisins, refresh me with apples, because I am sick of love. To put left hand under my head and keep me tight." It's simple. Apparently it's very simple, forward speed light to anywhere. I'm afraid . I read and begin to understand. I did not feel like waiting all come to you. Somewhere, from your eyes, it flips me a basket of red apples, grapes bluish, yellow pears, cherries... Are you scared? No, not at all, I say. Let me live now, in this very second, all the seasons with you. With you. I expected to come the spring four times this year, but brought with it promises of apples, grapes and greenery. I know that you know that we can not afford to talk too much. You learn to shut up, so I can then hear your cry. Insight me. "My beloved speaks to me and tells me: Arise, and love, come my love. My beloved is mine and I am his: he is living among the lilies. " Of course we can not rush the moment, I have no desire to hurry right now, but that breaks me, I cut taking me dissipates. A strange chemistry formula builds Baroque lines among our fingers clenched so desperate, and yet so quiet. I want to watch with your eyes, with big eyes, I feel you waiting as a lava ooze on my spine. I draw the fingers on your back lilies, royal lilies. I'm crazy because of you with all my senses I try to fell. I let down the game, it is to much now, we can breath. We oppose all the old love stories that have already built in our expectations. Yet trying. The game is always the same. But always another. "Your belly is a glass round , where it missing wine, your body is a sheaf of wheat, with lilies. Please, sweet daughters of Jerusalem, do not arouse or awaken love when until it comes to you..." Marathon or sprint? Surfing or diving ? Who else knows and who cares ... Time is not everything happens in a split second. Rituals yet indecipherable open the book all the silence world. And I feel that I brokenness. It's too much. Do not anything, you do not afford to smile, you're still only a cried silent and a calling. As I imagine. I knew much as it's gonna get. But it hurts too much, because I recognize you in myself. I cry. Now shut up. The strange music stops. Our echo waving in reverberations balances. "Set me as a seal upon your heart, as a seal upon your arm, the love is strong as the death ... Come quickly, love, like a roe or a young hart in the mountains which are full of spices!" That smell of lilies you've never once insinuated in my senses... And let me breathe now. Breathe is so beautiful because it is through your gills . A new story is born. You are here, the silence makes me close my eyes. (August 2002 ) |
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