Lips

Gliding over each other our lips speak together without clamor passionate. Where did our lips learn this sweet language this joyful language without venomous words like the language of an Ordibehesht morning with the iris like the murmur of an endless melody like the elation of a wave of scent that, loose and free, enfolds our embrace naked at home awake. Our lips speak together inseparable pure in each other's arms like an Ordibehesht night and the blue water lily in the heart of night naked in sleep...