a poet is a caresser

To caress is to glide gloriously along all senses

is climbing out of your doomed body with too slippery brinks

is stroking with meagre words and desperate restart

And to caress is to flee my solitude on your pulse

is to implore old pains

in naked eyes with question marks

I must confess that i like to caress

cause i feel i live and i live you

to caress is to give what i want myself

and yet never had

To caress is a bit like changing skins.