Friday, September 12, 2008


Allready I am heading west towards Gibraltar.
Westward away from those strong shoulders and soft skin of the Black sea.
That tounge from antiquity.
Self amotion starting even before self acknowledgement
The saliva still fresh on my lips.

"I have heared my masters call" says my heart.
Lightly intermingled through the winds of time.
Never far away.

That last look into jet black eyes.
That feeling of emptiness.

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