you are the innocent violet in the green afternoon with the sun in the abyss

you are the innocent violet in the green afternoon with the sun in the abyss

and the rumor of the smell of the sea

exciting to the taste a deep sigh to the intimate ear

the silk paper on which I write my verses

the woman for whom my senses go crazy with love

the perverse strawberry ice cream that my tongue craves to taste

the complete poetry that my phrases want to delight

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