Skin to skin Although some spare nothing by those curls Of her clasped memory. It would win Around the earth like a bed of pearls! Love crawls to the core Grasping the rust in its thing of air As on some blowing resulted floor, From off the end of a lighted pear. Quick, your soul was To the blossoming. Knocking at the path you would burnish, Fill the dark and future with fire! Make the fire of your candle time ©Jashan fatta Skin to skin Although some spare nothing by those curls Of her clasped memory. It would win Around the earth like a bed of pearls! Love crawls to the core Grasping the rust in its thing of air As on some blowing resulted floor,