Your sleeping nakedness between Siberia and the sun / Gocho Versolari, poet

Between Siberia and the sun
you lie down, you collapse
and you manifest again.
your white coat
your bare right breast,
the hair to the wind
that comes from the clouds
sometimes become
on a joyful horse;
fragmented horse
or in obsidian foals
to take you and your little replicas
to the entrance of my cave.
There you pass out on my bed
and the angel orders me to make love to you
while the stalactites of the day
they dig into my buttocks.
I am told:
that just by penetrating your lax body
you will wake up at dawn
and you will feel life as a child in love
bathing from your feet
to the soul.
Then I love you slowly
while the beast of the day goes crazy for a moment
and then submerges in the hours of lethargy.
Then I love you freaking out
until the echo of a groan starts
that comes from the bottom of your dream.
Between Siberia and the moon
you will descend again smiling
and shattering the twilight with your soft plants.
You will ask me for food
and we will both taste the fruits
from the sky,
from the earth,
from sea
and the rising midnight sun
will warm our bones;
our life




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