The day is a white sandy beach, and I make a castle of your body, dig my fingers in your white curves and let the silky grains slip through. I slake the shores of your thighs and take edacious sips from the salty canal that connects rivers with oceans. There are thousand ways to breath, but there’s only one in which my inhalation finds your exhalation like two unknowns of one and the same equation. Acceleration; exaltation. Your lips are a bellows that fumes desire into the heated fireplace of my body. I indulge in the crisp crowns on your royal hills¸ with an unstoppable eagerness to surrender to the powers of your mountain kingdom. My hands draw circles on your skin, they spin on either side of your chest, no longer knowing what left or right is. Our tongues are allies on this linen battlefield, and I send mine on an exploratory mission before the troops march in. Where eyes meet, they hold, and their depth is deeper than the dark black ocean in which I am drowning.