2. Wide secret houses conceal. Mattresses deep in the sour valley. Of our past seen in high hidden glass. Adolescence is wet with napalm. A candle spitting in the rain.
1. <<Youth>> by Pablo Neruda, as translated by me. Plum perfume an acid sword. Path-fallen offer a sugar kiss. Vital drops to my finger slide. Pulp as sweet as Venus glide. Eons and barns are incitement.
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