The shining Path of the walkway

My hands are embedded in your skin,
And your body is rambling,
To the sea of a thousand waves,
>       I am a boat ...
-

I have the heart that fails,
Engraving on the ocean,    my wake
When under the terms of travel
You also ondoies the hips
-

... If it is falling into oblivion
After the course of the hills
Fingers hanging with saline scents
On the pleated waves of your bed,
-

When the desire        is resting
It has neither beginning,  nor end,
But resurrects while whith its whole hunger,
It combines us,     and overlays us ...
-

My mouth keeps         in mind,
The taste of passion in fruits,
Always present in the heart of the night
>   Shining Path of the walkway.

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