In the shadow of your red lips, angels revile your smile
In the shadow of your red lips, angels revile your smile,
A definition of love, where instincts meet in style.
The egg, rolling in infinity, cries in pure moments,
Overturned clouds, round tombs, in my mind's playful torments.
The budding shoots eagerly drink destiny through flowers,
Whose matured pistils erupt in the dawn of dreams' showers.
Your love, without perfumed words that die,
Of my cult, crooked crosses for atheists, a backdrop to defy.
In the astral shadow of the New Earth, the world's wind spins,
Abject stars swarm toward the Universe's hive, where it all begins.
Eternal rotation, in reverse, summer igniting the air,
Imponderability sparking a call in a frail alphabet's lair.
A firm point, a unique end, the start of a calendar's grace,
My transparent eyelid, a humble leaf, the first and last place,
Torn away with modesty, when your pity weeps true beauty,
Dusting cheeks with my virgin loves, singing your story as duty.
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