- Non-Erotic Poetry
- In the Middle of the Black Lake
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In the middle of a black like there is a rose that stands alone in the center of an Island. This rose is untouchable, increasable, but just by looking at its red pedals you know, that they have to be as soft as silk. You get this feeling this longing to touch it, to feel its soft pedals and to smell of its sweet effervescence. But you know you can't touch it, or smell of it as the black lake blocks your way to its sweetness, so you are standing on the shores of the lake watching the rose blossom in the sun. Longing to feel those gentle pedals cores your skin to feel the happiness that lies in the middle of the black lake.
