Fragments of fire stand like blade of grass
On the threads of my awakened nerves.
Compass succeeds here frequently
To detect similarities between east and west,
As sweetness is flowing like a river
Towards our measureless Mediterranean Sea.
All of my blues turn into phosphoric orange
Without any bruises, that
A reckless sin can cause in the darkness of desire.
Seasons mingle together to create a new spring,
Since your flexible fingers are blooming like petals
On every inch of my crimson skin.