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erotic poetry

je ne brûle aucun encens
j'ai regardé sur le ciel glorieux
remplacez la vision du plaisir
dans la terre silencieuse
avec le rouge de sang de lèvres et le coeur de la pierre
je ne puis pas toujours sentir son greatness
je vous attends
musing, entre le coucher du soleil et l'obscurité
l'air est plein de l'aube et du ressort
ainsi tombé
dans une vieille chambre s'est doucement allumé
au-dessus du fleuve, sur la colline

 



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