thirst for sand from the silent rain of a cry of the soul and the cry for a saving kiss

burning firing in the open cravings of the uncertain

I imagine your shirt melts before my fingers like prayers

like fulfilled wishes that go off bursting into pleasure

in a fleeting satisfaction

between the lava and the cold sweat of a unique love

of a dawn, but also of the night

of the moon that hides in the thin black layer of emptiness

that is wrapped in the ribs

going over the bodies with caresses with warm drops

that dry and dusty bodies drench with hope

cleaning them for a new sunset.