nania___

her face was in a bed of hair,
          	like flowers in a plot-
          	her hand was whiter than the sperm
          	that feeds the sacred light.
          	her tongue more tender than the tune
          	that totters in the leaves-
          	who hears may be incredulous,
          	who witnesses, believes.

nania___

her face was in a bed of hair,
          like flowers in a plot-
          her hand was whiter than the sperm
          that feeds the sacred light.
          her tongue more tender than the tune
          that totters in the leaves-
          who hears may be incredulous,
          who witnesses, believes.