Walk the Sahara of your back till the next Oasis. Exert myself to the

point of complete exhaustion trying to reach and finally meet your lips.

Sweet love of mine. Each one of your skin pores is a deep well of desire.

And there are millions of them. Wonder if I’ll make it till I reach my

aimed point. The distraction and pleasure are being limitless. The

journey feels endless. And it couldn’t be better. Thank God there is

always tomorrow. Don’t care. Shall be keep moving guided by the moon

and stars. Walking on your back feels as waking on clouds. Heavy with

unexpected rain. Thunderstorms and hail. So far it feels as soft cotton.

Oh, its warmth…a sun under my feet. This is too much. My hands

are octopuses caressing your entire body. Not an inch being left

untouched. Not an inch. Your breathing are the fumes of a volcano. In

my neck. But sweet as honey as it invades my lungs. Sweet conquest.

Sweet love, hope to still have you next to me tomorrow morning.

And while you hold my hands, I’m sure I will. Love you.

EO