Poets

You come, with the breeze of night, and it is my corpus of candles, you come, and ignite. I see your soft skin, which reflects like the moon,

It was somewhere under the moonlight, where I could see those eyes full of rhyme. Where I could rhythm those lips, by a flow of love, by tender and a kiss.

Red colors... Remind me of the forgotten sunsets. Red, like the cheeks of a shy flower, innocent. Floating on the Clouds, Swaying in the dark.