Death Still

Woman, the freshness breath, Untouchable lips as they have been caught up In fine pleasant date from a summer park So how many hours I made love to my German girl? From the peeping movements of a rainy day To a cricket of the existed morning’s commute! I love you Among the trail of a ring Your mighty body I smelled, and the stretching kisses From the Truth, which in such delight I carry you, and between the streams As if there is no tomorrow I take you as the night has done upon us. O, I love the whispering of you dying smile; The narrow space you and I create facing down the hot sand; O I love the breathlessly moment, your dead eyes over me In which it well might open in a way of brutal still. Yes, I love your sweet sweating, your smell; The glories of heavenly climax, and then, all so quiet turned away That nectar one hundred miles keeps me awake.