Pamela
return to the world and the gentle waves. The underground
regenerating and saving, between depths and the shock wave. Uncertain limbo, capsizing torpor post-romantic, eternity supreme fighter.
Observe the invincible soldier risking death to each of your hugs. Then dig into the death that takes the exquisite face and threatening sleep.
Underground, life is taking shape, the galleries are leading the way enjoying tomorrow.
You, life, you look down.
A revolutionary always rests. You can push the top of your bluffs, can manhandle your ocean, your sirens lose in giant vortices.
He just died between your breasts, over your shoulder, on your neck.
You wake up the morrow. He will revive and will leave for battle.
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