like a forgotten work of art an ikon hang in a wall of flowers

left idle by time and social system in the open air monastery you are a

purified rose against my thorn of lust

corrupted by your beauty rituals

a stream of light you radiate

clothe me with grey looks of erotic eyes

shadow lips that have the taste and vision of sorrow

dedicated to the ancient virginity that speaks the silence of doves

and i escapee for island harmonies

taste your bitter lemons of sin

in love with the words that were never spoken

in the end of space where the blue light

phantom of mauve shadows lies

holy shy in the measured touch of night

and other forbidden dreams that feeds my ascetic mind

behind the mask of love , your mask of your Franciscan eyes