That be ejected
By the ray of your laugh
The anguish installed
In the crown
Of the tower
Of my being
And that in the golden
Field
Of my skin
Fall the early
And the late one
Rain
So that of the fruit
Of my chest
We could build
Simultaneously
A new watchtower
Fortified
Far exceeded
With the product
Of your lips,
With the longings
Of my begging.
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