Quiet moments in which I feel desolate
Already I do not have your body and either your dawn.
It is my soul that it crosses the spaces of your alcove
That they descend in the carpet where it kisses your mouth.
Your skin shaken in a hidden sheet
Overwhelmed with passions in the suspended air
Thalamus of empty and quiet love, barren lost
Where I deepened the fire repressed on your belly.
Naked feet walking on the zephyr
Of your thirsty and shaken vigorously breathing
Purifying your dawn until the bottom of your breath
Pieces of silence lowering before your glance.
Taciturn bowings of tracks that they embroider in the mind
With love shades, so mustiest suddenly…
Humidity of lukewarm bodies sent towards the forgetfulness
To the subtle bend Together … Of your body and mine…
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