martes, 11 de enero de 2011

feeling eclipsed

From your mouth a light snack
pleasures rolling,
burst my senses.
ripe fruit
not quench my thirst.
Hands recover
pleasures rusty
fly high and free
no weight to my broken wings.

Neon lights
between games of shadows
eclectic carved profiles
eclipsing my senses.
Morals buried
at the corners of your body.
Praying prayers
pity that only
of our desires ...

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