Love Game The first poem

In my sleep, I am drunk with a place of consciousness and dream. I am drunk. There is no lyric, it makes lotus arms, it sews on my neck, it sews on my neck, it is summer, and my chest beats in the hot veins of her breasts, I press my face on the softness of her abdomen, my hands rest on the magic of her head, and I press this sitar The magic to the most restless chest that is burning and I play it to the most pleasant caress of the fingers and oh my God, the sound of silence comes between the notes and my sitar takes my eyes to a song that does not remain in any song. I play him as he wakes the desert in the rain and the parrot takes the cage to the dream of the distant forests. I play him. اسن تير ١٣٩٤ Send Babak Source of Daily News