he fed me with words
what a delicate stomach that i have
such lovely skills he has
and the words ~ before ~so untied
now have a body and breathe
my breast arched like a bow
my breath so silently ~ rested ~
repeat an echo on my heart
feeling at the beginning
that was a soft blowing
no, no ~a murmur~ insisting
saying what i can’t explain
a punch … makes me pull the air
while i inhale scent of fruits
and i tilt myself again
not as an arch but as a woman
what a sophisticated love is that
food me with his words and breathing me as his air
Poetheart! 