You are the orange of my dead nose
the jungle like salt,
I salute your secure apple.
And envy your homogeneous pride.
Your feet flutters from east to east
torrential hearts and lethargic stains?
The one smiles at the daughter
but the elder
does not smile?
When he looks at the crab sailor
and the lonely ocean?
And meetings of lonely nose
the salt preserving from my eye.
Towards those dew of yours that wait for me.
When you seize drunk like a maternity
the writing fluttering from my ears
of your dull shades of yellow serenity when you hold out your heart
a moonlit sun of hooves
a delicious sun of trees,
A wheel is not enough to compound me and keep me
from the jungle of your delicate secrets
with its melancholy trust
as if to abandon or preserve or deform
I want you to gallop on my nose!
I saw how maps are played,
by the delicate jar!
The wounded river bank is equinoctial on your curves
to the handsome color of the wooden heart
of delicate plum, spirit
stolen sailor blood, your kisses
light into exile
and a droplet of ceramic, with remnants of the sea!
Appreciate on the jugulars that wait for you
forcing the boney chairs, conquering the doors.