31:
Tongue breaks and thin fire is racing under skin. [what we learn to separate lust from love is divided only by the thin line your tongue persistently traces onto me, memorised route, burning distraction] I am dead – or almost I seem to me.
47:
Eros shook my mind like a mountain wind falling on oak trees [and the leaves rustle dry as my throat when you finally appeared again. The shiver ripples down my back like your stray palms].
52:
[My body being made of wax and can slowly melt away the shape of your kiss and keep it engraved. I am not foolish enough to] think to touch the sky with two arms.
138:
[With time I learn to crave only for the simple things]. Stand to face me beloved and open out the grace of your eyes [and behold you in me].
147:
Someone will remember us I say even in another time. [Great tragedies stay in the heart, ageless, and we have carved our love in stone made for fingertips to gently run over].
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