Spasms

When I recited some verses 

on the shore of the ocean, 

the moon was raped sweetly 

on the waves, 

in spasms, 

with unpredictable cadence 

and furiously unearthly. 

Eroticism was never 

so close to hidden face

of the nacre virgin, 

I had never noticed 

with too many desires 

under my skin. 

Seawater 

became liquid 

of sensual foam 

between my fingers.


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