A round shape and some silver dots all around…
your earrings are getting tricked by your mad hairs.
This ashtray has seen more lips from you than me…
more lips, more pinks, more stained butts.
I have been overwhelmed, I have been backed…
This city emits bed with fallen leaves now…and I am sitting here by the blue window and I can see why it’s beautiful when it’s empty.
I have seen these earrings before, I have seen opened lips before, I have seen poems getting sold before…
But this time I am in a tunnel where both yearnings and immersions flows like dry lights.
Affections have always made people see the stars on their feet and the waiting for that one night, that one moment of touching toes…
that makes people more inclined with the soils, with the surrealism in our rough days.
You are sleeping on your elbow and I have just named one of your tits as ‘Marine’…
These curves always remind me of waves…those waves with the surfs of distant lands.
Marine…marine…marine…
My words… Marine… everything… marine.

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Photograph: Google Images.

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