When will the petals of your rosé wither?
I want to see them fall, down to the brown earth,
And drown in the soil of lust, fertile till eternal trust,
Such that I can crumble and dust,
Into your crimson must,
And dust can mingle,
Without a shade of hindrance,
With no explanations to give,
No one to convince,
Nude yet earth in its vast expanse,
You and me, rolled into one eternal trance.
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