Your whole body holds a stemmed glass or gentle sweetness destined for me.--- When I let my hand climb, in each place I find a dove that was looking for me, as if my love, they had made you of clay for my very own potter's hands.
Your knees, yours breasts, your waist, are missing in me, like in the hollow of a thirsting earth where they relinquished a form, and together we are complete like one single river, like one single grain of sand...
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