She who eats my poems
emerges from my calm seas,
Like an iceberg.
The greening
harbinger of sleeplessness,
feed feverish desires.
from the balcony of his eyes
Cases descry forgotten
in the season of farewells.
Forest fruit
With aromas of city
Mora has to mature green.
to be mature ....
The swing of his lips
rocking the child that lives in me
up very high if the string taut.
Spells that wipe
love plural
to forget promises promises
Forest fruit
With aromas of city
Mora has to mature green.
to be mature ....
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