quarta-feira, 29 de maio de 2013

Dew Drops

Dew Drops

The last turn of the screw
where the bullet proof the flavor of the trigger
Pearl color without the use fiery
illuminates the polestar in corset

Smoke stack on ties
florets and polka dots in her nightdress
steps of fate in our embraces
the flavor of the trigger linhal in console

veil wreath on yolk gibraltar
rides the cyclops beautiful light
scarlet bird flies to the altar of the Great Canyon
dew drops invading the dawn indomitable

flames of your skin in wicker timbers
your body silky soft hand greased through my
Passion studded with long kisses a cinema
the stars fall into the net of its fragrance.

Arthur Nett

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