POEM 1

In the nipple of the hill named Hiskatuso
a small bonfire scatter blinking to the night
while it escapes through the roof
a black red light

Over there very close
very close to Lake titicaca

It has in the shape of her body
and in the sparkling of her eyes
the beauty of the black women of Somalia

but in the general aspect
it looks made in the sands of Arabia

And with help of his white hand,
he took that copper from the handle
and skillfully
and slowly
it put on the little door

So later
he put pressure little by little till he penetrated seeking for the bottom of the things
finding the sense of life
loosing the embarrassments
and wining duration for the orgasms

She is the one with a free rein to her instincts
which wishes for his instincts to showup
and explode in little white flowers on her body.

It is him
who drinks a little sip
he opened her legs
and submerges en that night of curly hair

And now the "visitor" approaches
goes in
it expands in that house of flesh.

Author: Huáscar Vega