a muse blow 10th

at the end of the hour,
you go and you do not come,
for love drinking panting,
and the other riddles,
while from the trees the bees drip like bitter almonds,
speech like a seed that does not touch you,
 due to the mourning of lost loves,
 In a time of longing you house waters,
 in water scarcity in vain,
Irrina, of the danger of rock and a little,
source uncontrollable,
winter was deep when you went out,
 since then the raptor of Hades,
 was painted on the wall,
Irrina soaked in the salt of the dream
Irrina practicing lust and the javelin of the gods.