she is not hot or cold she is not shy or daring she is not red or gray

my hands touch her, although they do not feel her skin

they kiss her without touching her lips

she's beauty when the shadows touch her sublimely

and she cold when the sun goes through her

with steps in the silence in the secrets and in the shadows

works

because she wants to bless, hurts, destroys, corrodes and hurts

her hands lead through labyrinths

some to death in her guts

other seeds that open day light

she's neither sweet nor salty nor a mixture

she's tonality,  totality, light and darkness

the cold that breaks the bones and the heat