Los amantes- Cortazar

Firstly, I apologize to Poringa users who are expecting to enter here and find porn, and instead find this...but I think all beings seek more than sex...and sometimes nourishing a little poetry doesn't come amiss... It's part of what I am, sex, passion, lust, and other trifles like I usually say, thanks anyway 🙂The lovers

Who sees them walking through the city if everyone is blind? They take each other's hand: something speaks between their fingers, sweet tongues licking the moist palm, running along the bones, and above is a night full of eyes. They are lovers, their island drifts towards deaths of grass, towards ports that open between sheets. Everything becomes disordered through them, everything finds its cipher stolen; but they don't even know that while they roll in their bitter sand there's a pause in the work of nothing, the tiger is a garden playing. It dawns on trash cans, the blind start to come out, the ministry opens its doors. The exhausted lovers look at each other and touch once more before smelling the day. Already dressed, already leaving the street. And it's only then when they're dead, when they're dressed, that the city hypocritically recovers them and imposes daily duties on them.