POEM 2

I like your hips of lemon balm
or perhaps
I like the hips of brick
or the brick of your hips
or a lemon balm in the hip of brick

You allowed to be kissed by my time
(beetles scratching on your breasts
and your breasts scratching beetles

without anybody realizing
not even ourselves
now our lives trapeze the same thread
trapeze of now: who spins our lives?

If at least the cigar would not burn consuming itself
if you would not consume more cigars
If you like me and I like you
We should try to live and die together
or to live and die without trying

I do not want to separate from you
After your trip
I dislike every plane

I think their only purpose is to separate
and they stop and do not arrive
and they are late, and do not arrive on time
and nobody receives us

Because of that
so that will not happen
I dig with with a lemon balm your breasts
while I enjoyed with pleasure on the trapeze of your hips

Author: Huáscar Vega