Drenching my mouth
In the pastels – tints
Of its passing,
Absorbing every touch of its colour
This warmth I love,
It pulsates in blood,
And I penetrate
Across its variety,
Pages of you
To become only
The small particle
Drinking from your mouth
My own soultellus, luctus nec ullamcorper mattis, pulvinar dapibus leo.
by Anna Cellmer