My friends are dwindling
Yet there is no pain to sate.
My opiate remains in this nook, so I must stay
As Utopian allegories are drafted this way.

In my hush corner of Rio
Where endless creeks of confetti spill
But never on occasions.

My composure is dwindling, yet there is no pain to sate
The scaling samba pulses any which way.

Cobble streets still hot from the sun
I feel apart from everyone
In my hush corner of Rio
Where laziness is patience
And grit is resistance.

If I would dive from Sugarloaf mountain
And cascade into your open arms
Would you let me dine on your heart?

The cobble streets are still hot from the sun
I'm a part of everyone.

Let us dip our feet into the black milk
Atlantic, kimono silk
First subside to our shins
Then knees to shoulders
And tread, far out.
Until we grow sapped
And here is when I'll contemplate you
Away from the light.

Then will you realize that even a whale of a stone,
Who's ripples reach the furthest,
Must one day sink?

My neophyte in delirium.

We both chipped off the stem of a climax,
And thrown into ambiance.
All we have is the minds eye and now.

My tenderness for you is just as buoyant as the morning I met you,
My Aquarius divinity,
My girl from Ipanema.

Do you still wear those ankle high, divided toe socks?
How they entombed your alluring feet.
Do you still paint a maze in your hair?
With radiant humps and risky fibers.
In my hush corner of Rio,
where the tide rolls back into the thresher,
Like your eyes when our bodies blossom.

The cobble streets are still hot from the sun
We felt apart from everyone
And the scaling samba still pulses
Like shadowed undercurrents,
Any which way.

In my hush corner of Rio.

Log in or register to write something here or to contact authors.