As I laid my head to dream
on the way the bus runs for it's life,
away from the nightlights and the highlights,
I start to hum this feeling in my realm.

My pain, now, is not mine.

Right now, I feel the outer crust,
the indivisible punishment of your tasty
punctures:
spheres of radiant darkness.

You see.
And then you don't.
And then you kiss.
And next you lick.
And your lips deform in the agony
in which the tears within your body
try to tear apart your walls,
your wooden watchtowers.

You may kiss me,
and miss me,
and then,
create an animal as big as a lion's den
just to avoid,
shade,
try to stomp above it.

Your hair falls like cascades of fire
and smells like the cloth of the lover
that you burned when you left her house...
but then, the smell is incomplete.
Something is hiding without me,
and,
when the mere touch of your kiss on my hand arrives
it is unleashed.
Painful and powerful,
my eyes, soaked into bubbly water
fight to look only at the pain
that your smile is emanating...
I do not want to love
your strange and delirical
delicious handcuffs.
I want to run, I tried to deny
the feeling of sorrow that forms a solid blanket around you:
spheres of tar and ravaged lips.

Cracks on the lips, nods barely felt,
punched lines through tight lips.
Hair that emerges like flames...
the smell of fear and the smell of lostness.

If you don't want to love me,
or are afraid to do so,
I'll understand.
It is difficult, I'll say,
to keep my blood within my veins and alive.
Your traction is powerful,
lips of ravaged red jade:
spheres of lustful cotton-candy.

If you do not wake up now,
you will miss your destiny.
And,
if I don't abandon, free myself very soon,
I will not meet her.
You see, you were right: you are noon,
I am mid-starry-night.
It flows at me and like me
with the clatter of a thousand
pixies.

I will not be prisoner,
I will raise and let you at your own mercy:
and you will only now
the spheres of many spikes.

Because the heart
is not an empty hotel
for you to manage.
Is the result
of heaven's mouth and ground's breast...
the only spheres of true power.