FLIGHT TOWARDS ME

It is possible that they tie you with chains,

that thinks to be proprietors of your body,

that shut you up with bars.

It does not matter, close your eyes,

open your wings and lifts the flight

wherever I am.

DESIRES TO FLY

Last night I found you again.

Last night, you were there,

white, pure, radiant

like an angel of white wings

and soft skin that you have always been.

Last night I found you again, looking at me,

waiting for a gesture, a look, a call,

longing for only one wink.

Last night you were there,
anxious for give yourself and to get lost,

anxious to fly to the unknown world,

but already real world.

Worlds where... are not only words, but feelings.

Perhaps were you also an angel of white wings?

ME

I am the one that all the dawns die
and all the dusks born for you.

I
N

THE
PARADISE
OF THE UNIVERSE

What will say my solitary soul

on having entered the interior of the woman

that represents the entire universe

and to walk along her paradise of loves

listening to the music of her unnerving violins

of the kiss and her lustful pantings

that shakes her fecund belly

wise and learned in the delights of love.

She invites me to slide repeatedly to the rhythm

of the warm music from the paradise of loves

that makes rock her life

in giving clouds

of eternals delights

that expresses hidden secrets

in cases of solitude

medallions of memories

and nostalgics parchments.

It is delightful to remind her in this way

and to know she is with me.

SEED OF MUSTARD

I sow your field
with silence words
fertilized with poem of music.
In every deposited seed
my fortitude and knowledge is impregnated
to create your ardent paradise.

Four seasons have to pass:
rains that bathe your evenings of nostalgia,
autumn that strikes the heart,
spring where your body is a pleasure
And finally the summer has come
harvest of your body fascination in flower.

The universe is our bed
You the ground,
me who is the sky and the rain that fertilizes you
So that in you curdle the fruits of love.

I CHING

The stripe continues

our lives.
The cut away stripes
the love.
Reading of the exagrama:
Love her as you love yourself.

PASSAGE OF PASSIONS

Perhaps the ocean is your skin,
the ship: my hands and fingers,
the froth: the moisture of your sex,
the wind: the pleasure groans,
and the bravery of the sea,
the bravery of the sea... will be our desire.

SERIGRAPHIE

sank in the marsh of the words
from which I went out
impregnated with your name.

INACCESSIBLE BELOVED

Today, my most intimate thoughts fly
and to the ear they speak to me that they want to die of pain
because they suffer from love
before the absence of the mansion of happiness.
I have not named you it is enough to describe you,
you are the happiness of Eden,
the water of the sources of the paradise,
residence of the stars,
concoction of the hallucination.

Today your absence bathes of sadness my heart
I see the time goes away without the closeness of your enchantment
and, on having remembered you,
my thoughts intoxicate me of your flavor
and taking your aroma in my heart
I continue in my work of confusing
my death with your immortality.

SYNCHRONOUS PALMISTRY

my life
i
s
a
l
i
n
e
that is crossed
y

o
u
r
s
in the palm of destiny.

YOUR WORLD AND MINE

I slide cautiously in your silent night

stumbling over your mysterious moon

that reflects the way of your valley

where your forest is today solitude and silence.

I love and miss the singing of your night,

the murmur that to far I listen of your springs,
feeling of your trembles,

the smell of your desires.

All this, you confuse me

and that's why I cry out to the world of dreams

that moves me to your spring world.

THE MANDALA OF LOVE

The rebellious darkness hides a firefly in her womb,

where it curls up and fired magic flares

turning me the lantern that lights your dark forest,

where rest with love in you mystic busts the death and my silence.

Come, come closer, in your flora receives the levity of my desires,
let me open the lock of your aura
to be the prologue in the rich symphony of your divine swaying,
where you will listen to the prelude of my voice

to ride your mountain like an eagle

that saturates the wind with his wings.

Come, be my shadow,

enjoys playing with my harmonic dagger in your bedroom of sighs.

You say to me, I say to you,
you kiss me, I kiss you

we are unconscious wet roots

in tantric mystery.

Up on the moon will be heard

the return of the phoenix chanting sutras.

Come, let me undress to secret mandala,

and draw your entrails in honey.

Come and kiss me with your light my nobility

and then there will be born the dawn, two lights and a universe.

SACRED GEOMETRY

Wise geometries.
Symmetrical cosmic pupils,
which wrap up my cold nights.

WHO ARE YOU?

I am yours, for You I was born:
what do you order to do of me?
I answer:
You are like a desire which nobody knows
I know that you are a fire of fever
that devours the ground that waits for me.

To know who you are
I would like getting in yourthoughts
to draw a map of the new promise earth
where I live now feeling strange and uncertain.

Will you be? the time that lives in my mountain
that in the daytime you ascend
and at night you descend dressed in light
you weave the blanket of dreams
that it covers the clothes of the day.

Only the time will know it:
Who are you? Will you be?
whom I take to the air as a lover
that sleeps with my fire
who lives in these words
and you accompany me
with your face in my way.