4691 In the divine circle of your fire

You must insinuate the word fire

And already inside my bones

The myelin begins to burn.

Your lips just must whisper I want 

And the fire between my nerves 

Will destroy the desires still to be born.

You gave the order to my four winds 

And they irredeemably became 

In a hurricane of balms over me.

I'm ready for the banquet 

Of the erotic manna that rains 

In the divine circle of your fire.