Your gaze flow
Like a river on my skin,
From top to toe,
Officiating the baptism
In the blood's spring.
A moonbeam,
Reflecting from your eyes,
Burns the soft curve
Between my shoulder
And neck.
A flowering tree is growing
Under my skin;
Dried words,
Shaking from my lips,
Drop the fears
In the autumn of oblivion.
Our chained hands turn us
Into an amphora that hides
The precious fruit of a kiss.

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