I just can give you a piece of poetry, I know you do not need anything else

Words that take the wind and that perhaps one day you will find forgotten in the drawer of your nightclub or on a shelf powdered by the passage of time once every thousand years.
Words that once made sense that arose in just as fleeting a moment as the passing stars just as fleeting as the moments of irrational passion that you simply let them be.
Words that escape us like a sigh at dusk when you look out the window towards infinity
I only leave you a kiss, an incomplete and imperfect kiss in the material world, but totally full on the transcendental plane, the one that really matters. It thaht   can not be contaminated by the real world.
Words watered with brackish water that you do not let sprout.
But the words and incomplete kisses are no longer enough to say what moves in the chest and I do not care what you think or feel (and I speak to you as if I had some right, or as if you cared), I only care to be able to get everything out of the bowels in the only way possible, face to face, body to body ...


Simply me