When a seagull falls asleep,
and draw ellipses with your flight.
You undress to sing
in the middle of the beach
drinking with your skin
the cubes that the sunset throws at you
and that keep the silence of the stars
before the night devours the herbs
in the form of flashes,
of breads and atanores.
When a seagull falls asleep
you stop singing and without dressing
you walk towards me.
that I’ve been naked for two millennia.
In the air of the last twilight
a bed hangs,
the skin of an ass:
what we need to love each other.
While July is warmed in the hair of your sex
and the moon become