tender face of a woman with seductive lilies

my body burns caressing you in desires

as a peasant I bury my fingers with the softness of cotton

inside your thoughts

getting from the bottom of your soul, the shadows

that they catch in a forest of beautiful vines

of mists that lead to insatiable pleasure

of a love from the heart

thick milk froths

cleaning pores clogged by absence

we voice rise like choirs

sometimes silent like our dreams

that cover, intertwine, overflow

drawing hearts on our skins

tattooing us each other

  as if we wanted to be a slow voice, a poem

A song or the brightest star in the blue sky