FEED ME

Gardener of my body

feed me...

the thirst is killing my being

and the absence of you tortures my skin.

Dont know if its day or night

or even if its cold or warm

but I bless the rain I sense in the horizon

and pray you feel it too.

Gardener of my body

feed me...

run throughout the landscape

and solte the rain for me.

Bring it safely in your lips,

and then...

slowly,

as in a caress,

dive into my body

made sea

only to shelter our passion.

Gardener of my body

please...

feed me.

©Graça Costa

                                                                  Ira Tsantekidou