A poem to Italian fashion model Elisa De Panicis

- Hair...
- Sphere...
- Cat...
- Bat...
- Belle...
- Spell...
- Fashion...
- Mirror...
- Passion...
- Human figure...
- Heirate mich...
- Give me a bloody kiss...
 You were whispering this to me...
 There was Rome inside a drone...
 There was a house in your black blouse...
- Black dress...
- Not chess...
- Come on Man...
- Google pen...
- Blonde...
- Bomb...
- You're my song...
- When I arrive home...
 You were telling me this.
- I'm latin just like you...
- There's something new...
- Let's fade inside ourselves with or without book shelves...
- Let's climb a mountain to observe a fountain...
- I'll take you in my own back...
- There's no hidden track...
- There's your brand new shoes...
- They do not whisper any blues...
- There're your eyes...
- No sighs... 
 I was telling you this...
- Mood...
- Cheese...
- Food...
- Please...
- Thee...
- Us...
- Joy...
- Free...
- Toy...
- Three...
- Built...
- Rebuilt...
- No guilt...
- Without you...
- Feel blue...
- Call me...
- Glory...
- Story...
- Book...
- Take a look...
- Peekaboo...
- Love you...
- This isn't new...
- Hours Man...
- Pen In...
- Pen out...
- Without a single shout...
- This is me talking to you...
- It was my birthday...
- Come what may...
- Let the devil pay...
- Latin...
- Satin...
- Be me...
- I'm thee... 
 You told me all this inside a kiss without ink that don't sink...

Elisa