What winter R you from?

hands opened
to every pollen caressing your face
positioned like continents
I take me aboard inside the clouds
bright as a dove
a gorilla that violently shakes 
a knuckle on his father’s rock
my lion’s mane
is gonna shine on me
the windscreen of my blinding dreams
of the inaccessible happiness

what winter R you from, now?
new hills will come
new cotton flashes
now, I’m hugging the sea
I’m smelling the salinity
and it’s summer over the porticos
in my impervious nerves
It’s summer between the wheat hands
in the swirly saracen smile
into the ethic yeast
of the unstoppable happiness


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