So Many Sundays Without You Poem by Rodrig Andrisan

Come to me to wash your little mouth of melancholy,
look, your shoulders and your breasts are both dirty.
I would give anything for a smile of yours,
the same blond and gentle, the one as a solar reverberation,
because my heart doesn't fit anymore in my chest
and I feel that she wants to lift me up to the sky,
enveloped in your sulfur coffin...
I'm a baby horse watering myself in the drought of your mouth,
with you, night turns-in day,
your whole body is bread for me.
Don't give me water, food neither,
I just want you to drip some love in your cupped hands,
no, better give it to me all at once,
and when you kiss me, do not be stingy, I want industrial quantities
and even, from time to time, stroke my aura too,
using the down of your telepathic rod...