Poetry

In a moon city 
will you distill 
the darkness for a hallucinatory effect? 
Without wearing anything? 
 
Polarizing the sex 
with the leaky pomegranates, 
vying for control of towers. 
Will it be unrespectful, 
moon hitting the sun, when 
it was departing? 
 
It was a lucrative business 
to trade envies with luck 
or qualities. I feel connecting 
with the violence of brown pillars. 
 
Playing with smoke 
you start undressing in epithets. 
A bumblebee 
raises the sights on rooftops.