5033 The sap that bathes

Oh, darling, I will sail 

Slowly through the seas 

Of the future 

And thus, make it very clear 

That I am as much yours, 

As the sap that bathes 

Your cocoons inside.

I want to be in your hands, 

Fragile as foam, 

In case you don't feel 

That my love is a good thing, 

That there are no traces, 

Or shadows, 

Or mists.

Like the clouds 

That pass anyway, 

Without regrets, 

Or embarrassment,

Or restlessness, 

To be there I yearn, 

Without eye-moving passion, 

Without unnecessary noise.

Oh, darling, I will sail 

Slowly through the seas 

Of the future 

And thus, make it very clear 

That I am as much yours, 

As the sap that bathes 

Your cocoons inside.