Darling, a bumblebee of your name comes and sticks to my comatose body strewing words of your lips, porcelain slick drops of rain. There I am, endlessly counting the threads of time, your body like chemicals rushing, talking tounges, flesh sinking in nature. something surreal we deliver to autumn, a painted silhouette of love. We gulp the harrowing throb of time, inhaling the movements of our doused body, in a swamp of emblematic sheets of symmetry. We become a pattern, a floral one, darling... this is how i take you, Afternoon red sun.