Thursday, June 14, 2012


The red lips voluptiously bites the rose
The strong hand slides down the spine and pulls
The long lean leg, pointy feet scaping from the fine print of the skirt
The hips sway manipulated in undulating movements
The white teeth pierce the tender tale, faces touch for an instant
as he infantly steels the rose and turns his face away in one only motion
At times slow,
Whirl body and projected image
in the lounge above the flor made of thin glass
chest panting under the cloth, sweat springs from his temples
under the black hair
Contrasting the smoothness, the slowness
the heel strikes the glass of time
Scratch on the floor above an abyss made of darkness
Unaware the lovers dance hipnotized by sound
Glistening the brocades reflect the glory of the chandeliers
Eyes do not stare, mouths do not touch
Souls tangled to the heat of tango
Moths attracted to the bright light
Shrouded in the embrace swirl sensations
anxiously awaiting the moment the flower will explode
from button to crimson petals
Slit opened
to the blood’s pulse