Rhythms Of The Love Serenade Poem by Maria Barbara Korynt

I don't know why so much
the your every word is moving me in memories
at least passed moments of our shared games.
I can hear it every day
a lot of similar words
but it no longer the ones

the sun is setting in order somewhere to rest
and I still am waiting
for your warm hand quiet whisper
repeated without the word
sounding kindliest
with lilac-coloured small bell

on the edge of the wood where your breath
became mine your our
alternately pulsating with delight measured out
as deducting with second hand of imperturbable tacts
of the rhythm of the love song and hot with closeness
of impatient young bodies with emotion.
at accompanying of seagulls of the sea
and an nearby unguarded beach
the wind played lunar serenades for us
on sand dunes...

do you remember?