I have this book where soft stretch small pieces of me, a secret rendezvous that my wanderings and rhythm punctuates the moments of his drinking asleep.
I fished over the line, where vowels and consonants are linked to seduce, to take the waist, to follow blindly. Their
not make them lighter, they waltz in unison, as these precious moments whirl and fly.
I smiled to read, eyes half-closed, imagining the future in other to obsolete other Alexandrians who will make me dance.
I breathe the fragrance of these possible chills and draws on vellum new horizons.
