I exist

Kyriakos D. Papadopoulos

I am sorry about a poem that remains unread, as well about a woman that dies virgin.

Believe me. The form of shells intoxicates me, the divine vision of the woman nudity electrifies me, the reign of love nails me down. I live in an amorphous fever, where the breeze dances in the hot sand, where your shade slips as in a dream, it embraces the white gulls, the white wave, and later it becomes a rosy cloud in my soul. A shiver of life penetrates me, the one-way road of a platonic non-existence frightens me. I exist now, in the future, a single plash of a thought I will be.