Naked

 

naked

 

bare breasted
girls
running like wild
mares
through my wet hair
every morning
painting circles of love
their eyes closed but
glowing
inside
like
any other miracle
from
any other world
prisoners of dreams
soldiers of
‘I want’ and
‘I need’
because nobody can stop them
they are immortal,
perpetuum mobile,
like butterflies on a carousel of
death
buried deep
into their
own
skin.

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