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"Speak about the tales in the night, those that are narrated in the shadows, in the sheets. At same place where the lips and the dreams are the same idea. An idea of pleasure and fear. The fear to being loved, simply the bizarre sensation to do not be love. What is possible to make in the stories to be sure of the mutual love? Nothing. Same in all night. Same in the ways formed between the bodies and the folds of the savannah, in the bed.
Sing about the stories in the sea of the hair, where the lovers perform dance in fusion, with the music of the breath and the groans of greatness. Eyes meet in the argument and let out a simple smile. Sometimes, the meeting transforming the darkness into the light, it is possible to find a kiss. The tongues fondling in depth receiving all vital energy. A reason to find after the moment to be quit.
In a forest - says the story of the dream - lights and shadows find the origen of the passion. The wind escapes from the lips, in sights that attract storms. It is possible to build the lyrics of the poem, letters in the skin written with the ink of the mouths and sex. The same ink that are painted the love in the eyes."
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