Stomache Acid In My Throat

WANT ....

I paint you naked in my poemaorilar me on my savannah take your breath
your smile
scar in your memory
dump the ashes of my cigar
on the carpet in your skirt

whisper in your neck of the spring dust.


I brush my poem
con tus pechos
afeitar mi barba con el tiempo
repetir en el viento
   este cádaver de sol marchito
en el oleo de tu cuerpo.

Hairdresser Tamplates

III

Tu cuerpo es la alfombra

que  moja mi silencio…

…deseo.

Stomah Pains Cold Drinks

My kiss was a grenade,
deep and open your mouth was

pink paper.
(Federico García Lorca)

write these lines in pink,
over the cup from your lips
defoliating my sadness in your hair
warm in your chest
water like corks in the shade.

Verses in pink on my back,
the infinite light of your eyes
drawing the paths of the night
the thorn that is stuck in the wind.

Verses in pink stuffed
like rain in my hands,
dying in the bowels of the Birds Eye
moss time.

Verses in pink
as silent laughter in this verse,
that slides into the eyes
who die in the spines of the winds.

I.c.c In Hairdressing

II LINES IN PINK

About the breath of your kiss
I write verses in the snow ...
.... Return.