BETWEEN TWO EYELIDS

I

Greenly cups bitten,

by your desire and mine,

mattress of whitely clouds,

annoyed by grayly ones,

behind a slowly shade,

your beautiful body tired,

sustained by ivies,

over the stones of a flood,

floating on time,

on a carpet enchanted,

from the sky,

between hundred clouds,

glanced your holded delight.

on the base of and oldy trunk,

the wide tree of the humps,

covered on brownly leaves,

showered by brownly fall,

dressed case, printed on red,

with cherries of honey taste,

weaved by ribbons of love,

slowly descend from your emerald eyes,

trying not to awake,

the wrinked trunk where you were,

napping on the dreams of the time,

gliding in complicity…the fingers of love.

between lianas entwined lowwing to your nest,

where sings the nightingale,

I touched your roots….your slender trunk,

balsamed vesels with the essence of the ground,

keen, fleeting and sweet,

the touch of your softly skin, wabing on your lips,

landing on your eyelids dead …news,

I kissed them, awoke slow with the eyelashes aplaud.

blinding me your shine,

the green light of your handsome eyes.

the renaissace of the thistles…on the desert dead.

breathing again,

the ardent desire of your tremble hands,

and the sweetly gift of your lips in red