It was summer and we were moving very slowly
Maybe it was because of the hellish heat
We touched everything with an impeccable elegance
Clean and sharp
We bathed intermittently
We smelled like salt all day
The heat was still stifling


We thought we were castaways
We made love several times a day
We slept very little
We were castaways
We did so many things when we made love
We were creating so many other things
Making love was the least important

of all