THE PEACH THAT BECAME A CLAM.

 

   I

The page opened the past, 
behind the shades of a recent dream, without North.

Four letters engraved in the alpha walls…love.

Mental nulls Crossed the street,
parrots costumed of green.

Dressed of roads, lies, jabberers rain, 
lifting a fruit tray…empty of fruits.

Just one left, of redly blush a scared peach.

Fish globes without sharks, fights without shields,
the war of the tongues.

At the end of the road, just two pines. 
Hurt, on parchment written.

A bag with a bread, 
two portions of cheese and three bottles of wine.

Two binded hands,  hope and certainty,
standing on destiny.

Darken night of deepest black all.  
Searching the light of a glowworm tire.

Reading in silence the armistice, battle of prays,
looking for the truce.

Absent eye, glancing sadly the same window, 
without colors and flares.

The peach of your lips, dressed of redly all, 
taste of thousand grieves.

Forgotten words, with no sense, 

no motives, showered of bitterness pride.

It were of love, spoken before thought…dreams.

Imagining your kisses, 
breathless…as bitting a peach.

Tender, sweet, wet, slow, warm…unhingly.

The same silent taste,
between bitter and sweet.

Calming your angry skin, 
so many times hesitated.

Enchanted eyes, 
hidden, behind a cascade full of tears.

Flowwing with the rain, 
trough furrows of a broken sunshade.

Trying to cross, 
the protected circle of your lances,
before the purge.

Falling my heart in the meerschaum, at your feet,

splashing the las beats of my heart,

defeated, wasted, defense less,
as a turttle at reverse.

Before the enchant of a peach, 
of yellow cap and redly lips.

Our weights fell, 
on a warmly sands of a river.

The glances flew, embraced, enchanted,
riding over feders in black.

Perching, on an indian naked brench…without skin.

where the charm were tied, by ribbons of pink…your love’s conjure.

The dancing of the hearts, wraped on the songs, 
of two monkeys howls,

delirious of passions, 
greenly  visions of darken white…cold grates.

The harassment return, her smell…her skirt, 
abandoned on the sand.

The naked skin of a lonely clam.