Next translation

What causes the plumpness of light in darkness? A tear-shaped flame channeled through your limbs, my limbs is what it feels like when we stop. Start? A charged instant, climbing from my orb to yours, a singular moon somewhere on your body. In fire to be on fire. The context cradles us, balances our interiority. Bring you out to float up-grain, in a guaranteed moment outshine. Foot of a compass, source of light, create circular. What becomes: you are an "O" to me, untwisted and calm. Under-pronounced in this early city night but clear, slick, part of the most distinct glowing ring.