Snatched from the moon
to the sheets
towards an April of your belly
everything is confusing.
Except your eyes and burns.
Oh the moon to lie down
you made lightning.
Like a clear noon of the vault
the moon to the intimate destiny
Tunnel through which I move along
your light belly
everything is hidden.
Let your belly be the moon
to fall out of think hair
until I move along your flesh
the moon too
snatched from the sheets
towards an April of poppies
the moon to lie down
to fall out of a heavenly body.
d