I never saw poorer girls lost within Summer Tales, missing the signs of mine, born in a clamour only, while rebirth plays the part of the dragon serpent from infancy
Drink me, or give me that spring of life where some language lasts and says rose robe nude in the same sentence. I believe in nudity with infinite futures whispering on stage
my hitting the road of senses with lust and perfume, my avoiding the road, my dodging the road and the crossroads where my father, my blood, my mask... share More than my sweet love's flower, my idea of despair touching the face in vain, not kissing, agitated,
who rocks most? who pursues most?
my becoming Thunder on the seashore, age of skin. I believe in bodies drinking me or giving me that More unknown breaking my next hollow kiss, more lips than flesh, more text than flowers, at exactly this moment, vortex
Not kissing rocks the hour and questions the hour
and bites too much
two poems hasting to breastfeed the momentum, not kissing,
who rocks most? who begins most?
the plot one dilemma two poems
and if bodies in between claim the denied hour the truth climbs till the skin of furor
furor amoris vox clamantis insomnia
memory maps foretell the force you drink me
rounded with other plot and cosmos you are the book
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