Poem of love

Don't use your words for me Don't talk to me while my lungs are filled with passion While my dreams are performed by your presence.

"Love" he shouted at the moon "Give me a break from your traps" he whispered in a gloomy tone "Give me something for the bleeding organs I've shared with you, give me warmth, give me cold, love ... Give me anything but don't just keep staring at me, your glance gives me the eerie breeze of the lost days, of my dirty soul, of my being" "Give me enough cum to wash my soul clean, love... Give me your hands, suck my cock, lick my face... Love, say you love me, say u hate me, but don't keep your mouth shut besides me" ... I live from day to day skipping some poetries, some breathings and from page to page I've been drowning in the words I wrote to poets who drowned in their own poetries, who lost themselves in the maze of love, in the madness of touch, in the pain of living, their poetries bleed the unexpected, the never ending love they always dreamt of, but never got... The dead poets who wrote about the delights of evil, of the eternity found in the sun and the sea, of the great things that we never hear...