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domingo, 8 de enero de 2012

Noche erotica.

My touch will be as petals of rose,
these runner hands will be which fill with wishes,
evenings of conversation where I will write my verses,
in your skin from these nights of full moon,
where your fragrances I become frantic. 

He finds the escape of my erotic desires,
the cascade of kisses precipitated,
on the slopes of your hips,
already enfilades on the edge of the bed. 

Your ecstatic body seen,
throwing their rhetorical groans
as Tigress in heat,
devouring my craving
and chest to boot me my passions. 

Take me between your legs
they capture my sleepless nights,
where I write my verses, in your gut
that I descend, waiting to be baptized in your lap. 

Where my head resting between your breasts,
your nipples irreverent lit my wishes,
I bite them subtly, I eat them slowly,
waking you up your dream of fairy. 
Your heated skin Verde I the sidewalk,
with kisses and my fingers reach your correspondence.

My cries of night lover. 
I am filled with you, your fragrance,
your distilled beloved flower honey,
 your desire to possess between night and day,
between tides and the golden beach… 

I love you, as it has ever loved a mermaid,
you raise in my arms that you deposit in the virility
that extends under the linen,
which covers our naked bodies.  

We are perfect accomplices,
endless nights of kisses,
caresses banned to the eyes of others,
lovers of the nights of endless lust. 

I love you in my beloved way of love,
in my delivery of Gypsy passion nights,
and caress each of the corners of your body,
I am yours, and you my Queen of lace and silk. 

José Flores.

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