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Alin Marin Elena's

Republic of Numbers and Letters

Seen in the contre-jour
of a sunrise
reflected by a cold sea
You are nothing more than
lines and curves
Lines that go
from
the equator of your being
to
the source of your sweet kisses
broken only by
the brutal cones of your femininity

Seen in the contre-jour
of a sunset
reflected by the cold sea
You are nothing more than
lines and curves
Curves that melt
in venusian
convex and concave surfaces
Dishevelled curls which follow
the whispers of the undecided evening breeze

And
despite your geometrical perfection
and my geometry proficiency
we slowly grew orthogonal
in the indifference of the British summer.

2nd of July 2010