love, the sound of the putting the bolt is comparable to the taste of your eyes

to the fresh pulp, juice, and strawberry of your lips

to the lust of your skin to the color of the night

at the height of noon

at the down of the afternoon

to the melting fire, shaking, silence, and arrogance of your gaze

love, wine, champagne, toast

it is comparable to the softness of your mouth

to the flirtatious shine of your desires

to the smile that tempts me and warms me

love, cracking the key to the lock

it's the oven, the milk, and the breakfast

the blush of the afternoon, the assault of the morning

the lustful buzz and overflow

love, candles, and the dim light of the curtains

it's the diamond, the mesh, the perfume

pulp, slip, soft hands

success and imprudence