I want love. You do too, do we all? No,
Not me, to you. Apparently, I
Don't exist. Do you?

I could feel my love
That I don't have -
This being alone,
Wearing the open air
Like Nakedness.

Vision dressed in
Nobody, not even
I.


Prayers answer every god.

The calm in your eyes
on me opens me
You lie in me
like a long l
of love

The light has licked you clean
it sings of you the glorious song
of our years, which bridge
everything that separates us
and clothes us in differences

For us, love is
still a thick word
of desire, the l
that erects
when I undress

Last line of defense
against nakedness

Retreat !

you have to be with me, naked
listen to your heart and undress
forget about your heavy stress...









it is just us: my huge and thick lust
your greedy mouth, everything what
we came here for; let's f''k away all of the bore

This divinity does not come from within these legs
The beauty you see comes from my hands
Your desperate need to feel the rough patches on my skin
My berry shades of scars
You haven't seen me yet
The nakedness of the blisters on my skin

Ya, finding yourself more naked than you ever fathomed possible...



(sonnet #MMMMMMMDCCLXXXIV)


So, showr just AFTER midnight, with a sense
Of eerie things as lo, the verse' detail
Which warns, "curse not the king..." nor in betrayl
"...The rich--" ah, whither oh my soul, fr'intents?!
Not e'en "...in thy bedchamber:..." wherefore hence?
Lo, how "...a bird of [yes!] the air shall [pale
Now, dearest me, as] carry [what?! bewail]
The voice, and that which hath wings tell--" what hence?
"...The matter."  O thy secrets!  Did I stir
Myself to stoop so low, did I?  No.  Do
Not tremble?  How a Blue Jay's call as twere
Wakes me at dawn.  Why did that Scripture cue
Me thus so many hours ago in tour?
I am not guilty, am I?  Or...who knew?

17Mar19b

Reach out your hand, take me into your palms
for one second or a minute of the leaking time,
listen to the rhythm of my heart from reckless Brahms
losing me in the labyrinth that touches me with its eye.

Open my heart's buttons to see its full nakedness,
loving me as if tomorrow morning you would lose the bets,
give him a spark, for his passion to reanimate, making us
forget about you, about me, about all our regrets.

Take me into that chamber bathing in the nuances of fire,
take the body that now is incapable of self-control,
let the music in the background comfort my hearing and inspire,
waiting until the ice melts in my heart and my soul.

Love me with a body that no longer thinks of anything new
bearing the mark of an acute and fine sensuality of a dove,
enveloped by the appetizing flavour that worries you
in this ritual of the pantomime from the game of love.

Dare me with your fingers that traces on my shoulders
lines that for a few moments are burning me, consuming me
with the intensity of the eye that fixes me, it marks me,
making me lose the last morsel of my mind, foolishly.

I would not resist your spontaneous urge to touch my bust
with your penetrating glance or emotions, awakening, letting me be,
with a burning temptation that's not extinguishing that crazy lust,
nor under the breath of night that would sneak in unconsciously.