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.
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