The evening has no odours on
crustaceans and molluscs.
The moon is a pale colour of saffron
You're taking you shoes off
while walking through dreams,
Street loves the rhythm of your steps.
Wind runs through unfamiliar words,
And the road is caressed with your feet,
Too soft to prevent, this evening full of your steps.
When you walk, you never stop.
Your feet is not touching the earth.
And me, you dont notice,
You trying so hard the lust to pass.
I'm still shaking from your look,
For some old reasons, I can not handle. © V. Morich