Cold as the infinite
Deep as syllable Om
This way your sight of snow
Pushed me to succumb
Possessed
Of my millennial impulse.
I was hostage of the desire
Slave of the illusion.
Fascinated was my tongue
For your pearly kisses
For your pupils in flower,
Without knowing that it was of ice
Your body that sweated arrogance
Your hugs that faked love.
No hay comentarios.:
Publicar un comentario