Buy me the sea, drown me under its whispers,
that salt in air dries me and re-opens my burns.
Sublimate pain, till there's nothing anymore but the embrace,
lips against fever, the pulse lost somewhere under your veins.
A taste of iron bended with honey. Soul's collapsing. Soft heatbeats.
Drunkenness. Fall. Our phalanxes closed, burning, under the frozen surface.
Inhale. Red steam. A romantic end, enchained to our strange condition.