If we should know making love

Inside

The space between foreheads
We should find again ourselves
And been lead
By the unwritten law of a new

Dimension

Ceaselessly luring us
For the intemperate emotions
Would be enough our hearts
Would heal our bodies
From the wild pith’s scorches
The beautiful and the mad ones
Tempted by the unknown’s

Forces

We make love within
The too narrow space
From hearts maybe nor even there
With sun on the chest
Stars within eyes and
Half-moon at the ankle
We take part in the threadbare
And misunderstood

Rite

Practiced at the intervals
Mind-boggling of well-defined