That White Flower.
from First New York 2013
That white flower that in the morning, opening itself, makes of your day a celebration, brings the empty spell of beauty maddened with desire. Greedy for the most desperate season of fire, that white flower knows all the secrets of ecstasy possible to reach on earth, when it has drunk from the burning cup the foamed magic of the body. O, but its petals of crystalline blue, of inebriating iridescent green, of the sea of paradise, they will overflow that hope in the lifetime of a kiss.
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|Publication:||Black Renaissance/Renaissance Noire|
|Date:||Sep 22, 2013|
|Previous Article:||The deep blues.|