In the spring twilight
the full moon is shining:
Girls take their places
as though around an altar

Her body flows like milk
Between her legs there resides a **** cherry
She is the sweetest of angels to bless this sullen place, she is softer than the silk of wedding night lingerie
When her all seeing eyes come to rest on me a wave of euphoria overtakes me
The strongest of drugs
Cheeks fill with blood like nectar when her lips move against mine
The rise and fall of her sleeping chest is a poem
It captivates me, forces me to memorize the quiet motion
Her feet fall and she dances like a sprite on my heart strings
She is purity and delight, she is precious emotion
In my arms she is light and when is away the feeling she leaves behind radiates
Never have I loved something so sincerely
Never before have I been graced with something so stark white, child like, familiar and altogether new

These tiny loiterers on the barley’s beard,
And happy units of a numerous herd
Of playfellows, the laughing Summer brings,
Mocking the sunshine on their glittering wings,
How merrily they creep, and run, and fly!
No kin they bear to labour’s drudgery,
Smoothing the velvet of the pale hedge-rose;
And where they fly for dinner no one knows—
The dew-drops feed them not—they love the shine
Of noon, whose suns may bring them golden wine
All day they’re playing in their Sunday dress—
When night reposes, for they can do no less;
Then, to the heath-bell’s purple hood they fly,
And like to princes in their slumbers lie,
Secure from rain, and dropping dews, and all,
In silken beds and roomy painted hall.
So merrily they spend their summer-day,
Now in the corn-fields, now in the new-mown hay.
One almost fancies that such happy things,
With coloured hoods and richly burnished wings,
Are fairy folk, in splendid masquerade
Disguised, as if of mortal folk afraid,
Keeping their joyous pranks a mystery still,
Lest glaring day should do their secrets ill.

Long arms of moonlight are stretching out
To the gigantic ocean,
For touching those soft curls
Of her mahogany coloured hair.
Eyes more azure
Than Pacific's quiet dream
Glowing too bright,
Embarrassing the fluorescence of water.
Resting hands on the fair *******
She is floating on her back
Gazing at the blessed purple sky.
While silvery cream of starlets
Is nourishing every wet curve
Of her slender body, with
Gentle caress.
But the unfortunate humans are
Still unable to witness
The mystery of her beauty,
Which is carefully confined
Inside the secret chest of Mariana Trench.

i saw a white hart in
a wood,
gorgeous before the
night he stood,
delicate, like a pearl,
wild and untamed,
a graceful flower
of the breeze
where autumn leaves
drowned their
sorrows in mossy
streams,
as surreal as stars
melting their blue
in september seas.

He held my hands when he first saw me, after that silent night fights. He stared at me like i'm the prettiest girl, and everything feels right. He hugged me like tomorrow will never come and whispers words that sounds better than the first time. He says something serious and i should've said yes and then pressed my head on his chest. A promised that we will never say goodbye, and those were the things that i remember on the 1st of July.