lips wet the love of
our spirits like a fog
and add their familiar taste to
the growth of our soulful tranquility:
the mist flows in us partially
and through the quenched day
our hearts synchronize
and on your skin
i taste salt from the sea
of your spirit
and everything becomes nothing
but us.
Writings by Esteban A. Martinez, poetry, fiction, rants, speculation and whatever else we want to call writing
Friday, April 01, 2005
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Where are you? by esteban a martinez
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