For this sweet sober eye

where you caress me so shy

I tend to form the lace

by glazed attention in space

and we are in solitude

so vigorous in the previous life of interlude

now by a spoken mirror of truth

I face moreover the distance inside you

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24

You have lived in words to survey the cold

at my own vigilance, a strain that never gets old

your look for invisible petals, somewhere kindly proud my eyes caress this blazed cloud

for beauty is in your calm melancholy this treasure pastes on me

the visual sound in your sweet sense

bringing into the table, the hidden love from this fence

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Come earlier for the afternoon in us we are in touch by blind possibilities the thought of this, we know, thus what it wonders in kind sensibilities

the whistle walked in, he passed in your window then over your lips, zooming in

coming out in release, pleasure to flow

and look all around for my classic favor into your swim

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Some of the beds of spikes go closer

Into the soul and get her for cover

As when you awake, some of you keeps calling

25

It’s the body of a dream, astute to ring Your peaceful death, just when you thought In grace, by the Fall of what is caught

The triumph of a skinny migration and into her we hold Both of all have taken sediments into this gold

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To endure a hiding fire from a lusty sky

And the biscuits circle for sonatas in your eye Does the body of a candy face runs deep Maybe the dressing cello of your lip Crucifies a sound and a speed

Your in my need

By the sacred integrity of a random bliss Ever more and so far here’s my kiss

………………………………………………………………

Due to a little kiss as the first Where a tender thirst

Came to refrain an orchard The May scent and his archard

Have similar architecture to be explained In what you are involved and sustained The archery smells forever blow

Me and you make things in a tasty flow

26

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The assembled heart carried in for secrets As reverenced them out of the counting years

Where the gospel rhythm influxes me into streets To the petal accent in the warmth tears

A perfumed life painted in eyes, so solemn

As the heat from a proper eloquence of the damned He sat still and quietly calm, meant

To inflict a new kind of kick when the band Walked by for the body of your nation

Secretes me tights of fluxes of an Indian tent station