Friday, October 29, 2010


The bodies that love each other are ours.
It is your look,
there are my hands.
The hands that love
are those that caress my body and vibrate in my presence.
Undoubtedly the principal ambition is your skin
The essence of my mouth. Sincerely this is what I more adore.

The bodies that love have neither names, nor ages
Neither some barrier, the hearts are so free and anxious
That they love, are beautiful, so beautiful the shared moments.
Our nights have neither schedules, nor fixed limits.
It is to love us in the daytime and to surrender every night,
it is the sun, the moon,
it is everything what we have,
more it does not matter,
it is the ground,
The stars,
it is like the big measurement of your hair
That is not a problem on having been in movement,
It did not even allege when it runs for my veins, that is an ash,
The dust and the motive of your skin.

The woman who loves me, at the time she seen me she gets lost
lost between sheets.
As the sun in the mountain.
It is the flower that dawns in front the window
It is naked and so sensual, that is the woman who loves me,
It is her who wishes me as nobody in the world.
The hands that love you I want that they are only mine.
That my body you caress without measurements...
That you remember that I am yours and you are mine...
I want to lift an oath to the sky; that between us
Only there exists the fire that is never consumed,
Something enormous, deep, as the dew,
That between our body burns and will always lasts...

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