the island

by
come... — catch out my poetry's nipples
with the island lips of yours

suck out of it... the rain of my emotions
announced in the forecast of love

any dose will transfer in you the energy
from the nest of my stars

the molecular activity of my atmosphere
is gonna erect your hemisphere

our happiness from the present of now
will immortalize any picture falling down 

the vapors of our passion will sign
with pseudo name, — [end of the world]


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running with the wolves of an exquisite vocabulary, knight of the pen, guided by the religion of music, it springs up somewhere in a spectacular ceremony there, dreams don't frown, because love's structure is painted obsessively about you, about me... both in a white silence splendor, dripping confidently... lust
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