Metal sun burns,
oil glancing on the herbes,
water on her, flames and lovers.

Kisses on honey blossom trees,
kissing, rubbing making scenes.
Chore, core of a beautiful sea mountain,
laying under heaven’s leaves.

Sun reflecting on glass,
saltburn, we are the young princes.
Bronze, argent on our head, melted down, to our spine melting our ribs.
© Blue walls