did i not tell you
that after each kiss
i always think
of the next,
death.
(but i do not stop
from there
life does not end
of the four corners
of the niche)
the last kiss i had
i begin to think of the next,
resurrection.
and then perhaps
we will be together again
pure spirits
no longer remembering
what kisses are.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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