Tell me, sand
Tell me, love
Tell me!
Tell me!
Why have I to?
Why have not I to?
While the weeping stars
and the dunes
becoming infinite moans
and the wind blows in all the directions
and your name
climbing my skin
and the sweat does its dirty game
the unbuttoned blouse,
the clothes
falling
down
Why have I to?
Why have not I to?
Tell me, sand
Tell me, love.
G.F. Molinero
Natalie Aléxia Larsson 
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