Scandinavian Eyes

80 days.

Today I want with kisses turn around your universe in 80 days, discovering how many of them cover you from your toe to your head.
Without spaces, letting you know that there's no doubt that you are the sole owner of the kingdom of my soul.

I want to bite your lips, sigh in your neck of fruit, squeeze your hand, take off our clothes, eat us just with the look, make love to you with poetry, the same poetry as my mouth between your legs recounts, poetry that comes to life and in the rhythm of my beats the fascination betrays me.

Come a little while, get into my dreams and seduce my soul, let me get entangled between my legs, fill your back with kisses, play with your hair and turn your blood into magma.

I wonder if perhaps these poems aren't only seen by your eyes, cuz the poetry also have the power to been seen with the eyes of the soul; I want poetry to convey the desire that I have to hug your heart, making it clear that you are the reason and inspiration of my life.

For me isn't absurd to give you my nightly beats in each writing of the notebook that accompanies me before having tea and wrapping me in my bed.

I made a collage of each one of your smiles, hung in pictures on the side of my pillow. From the photos of your eyes I made a tapestry on the ceiling of my bedroom simulating all the stars in the sky.