this feeling I'm feeling

I TOUCH your mouth, Itouch the edge of your mouth with my finge, I am drawing it as it were something my hand was sketching, as if for the first time your mouth opened a little, and all I have to do is close my eyes to erase it and start all over again, every time I can make the mouth I want appear, the mouth which mt hand chooses and sketches on your face, and which by some chance that I do not seek to understand coincides exacly wuth your mouth which smiles beneath the one my hand is sketching on you.

you look at me, from close up you look at me, closer and closer and then we play cyclops, we look closer and closer at one another and our eyes get larger, the come closer, they mergeint one  and the cyclopes look to each other, blending as they breathe, our mouths touch and struggle in gentle warmth, biting each other with their lips, barely holding their tougues on their teeth, playing in corners where a heavy air comes and goes with an old perfume and a silence. then my hands go to sink into your hair, to cherish slowly the depth of your hair while we kiss as if our mouths were filled with flowers and with fish, with lively movements and dark fragance, as if we bite each other the pain is sweet, as if we smother each other in a brief and terrible sucking in together of our breaths, that momentary death in beautiful. and there is but one salivea and one flavor of ripe fruit, and I fell you tremble against me like a moon on the water.