A tree in the snow
I longed for your flood of tenderness,
Your avalanche of caress,
For your wave of fire
That would burn myself
Until I green my branches again
As if, it was the Aaron’s rod.
And like a vertiginous tsunami
Your tongue traveled
All along my slow glacier,
Sweeping all vestigial scum
That remain
In my psyche and in my soma.
The same sensual poem
It possessed me inside
Like madness
To King Nebuchadnezzar.
And I was happy.
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