Zywa Interflowed

At night I'm not aware of anything
until suddenly there is the smell of orange
a man who talks to me
dressed in nothing
what leaves to guess

Sleeping I know everything
good and evil a man a man
a word a word and action
the world full of grounds and seed
from which a magical mixture grows

Dreaming I see sharp and soft
a struggle of grass and fur and
right through green and white
stream blue layers of air
interflowing colours

bed-free love

Poem 79
Moutier, 2007-06-14

Collection: Eyes lips chest and belly 
Keyword: Love: surrender 
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