"YOUR LIPS Your crust lips have kissed the fire,/ oh splendor of the steep lightning/ in the mineral depths of the earth:/ it is not a game here to see you, unexpected tragic clarity/ to say day is to try to light with two stones the dry leaves/ that the wind, if you are not careful, scatters/ when here, unexpectedly between the lit and extinguished eyelashes of the sea,/ your steely gaze, and bathes the fire/ of a purplish black./ Oh do not let yourself be loved/ except by another element. Let us forget in your wine."
Created by d'Araprì