First a kiss upon,
Her delicate winged brow,
Her eyes light up like stars,
That hum,
another one,
And she kisses her,
upon the parched rose,
Of her cheek,
That blooms,
From the tear and mascara,
Running down its fields,
And tenderly,
she kisses her,
Upon the loving garden,
Of her lips,
Their souls fill up with love,
Like fountains,
A forever kind,
The honey of their kisses flow,
Sweet moons aglow
Reynaldo Casison