There is so much quiet sublimityin the shapes that draw your chest;and so many stranded looks…in the

There is so much quiet sublimityin the shapes that draw your chest;and so many stranded looks…in the restless sea of your kisses.I never beheld a bonfireso radiant, of fire and passion,not a look, so subtle and perversethat resembles,- to the zenith of creation !!There is a field of poppieson your disheveled cheekbones;where they sprout, beautiful stanzasradiating, “drugged poems”.…And when the southern breeze blows,touching the watchtower of your palace, my senses “become avalanches”, burying with caresses…- your sacred mountain !!Today, I wouldn’t mind dying…In the waves that carry your karmalike a surfer, unafraid to feelthe orgasms you treasure,- in your guts !!- Ousía Poética ©    March 2016Hay tanta sublimidad calladaen las formas que dibujan tu pecho;y tantísimas miradas encalladas…en el inquieto mar de tus besos.Nunca contemplé una hogueratan radiante, de fuego y pasión,ni una mirada, tan sutil y perversaque se asemeja,- al cenit de la creación !!Hay un campo de amapolasen tus pómulos desalambrados;donde brotan, hermosas estrofasirradiando, “poemas narcotizados”.…Y cuando sopla la brisa del sur,rozando la atalaya de tu palacio,mis sentidos, “se tornan alud”,sepultando de caricias…- tu montaña sagrada !!Hoy, no me importaría morir…en las olas, que transportan tu karma,como un surfista, sin miedo a sentirlos orgasmos que atesoras,- en tus entrañas !! -- source link

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