FROSTI... (o Mi caja de música estaba hecha de escarcha celeste)

I will wade out till my thighs
are steeped in burning flowers
I will take the sun in my mouth
and leap into the ripe air alive
with closed eyes
to dash against darkness
in the sleeping curves of my body
I shall enter fingers of smooth mastery
with chasteness of seagulls
Will I complete the mystery of my flesh...?

juliork