You

Your hands
That make my skin
Inflammable organ,
That touch
That is so much yours
What characterizes you
And distinguishes
Of every man
And every woman

Your fingers,
Playful
Complices of the night,
Close to my chest,
They have become
of gold
silver
And bronze
Hidden treasure,
Between the tangle
Of my hair,
Or in depth
from my

You look like a son of Zeus,
Personification of a ray,
Electrifying,
Each pore
Of my being
You are made of mercury,
Going crazy
My cells
And neurons
Reddening
the soul,
Dyeing it with light