WILD SEX – The storm again / Gocho Versolari, poet


Lightning strikes
until they become adult jaguars
and they chase me
and they chase me
through the trails that the rain traced
on the gentle slopes
built with your skin.
Now pick up my bare footsteps,
my hasty escape
to this inexplicable fury of zenith
towards the top of my head.
While I escape
a fish nothing
and nothing
in the ponds of my lower belly.
Again the storm.
Upon reaching the top of the mountain,
I let heaven penetrate me.
Seizures, gasps:
wild and bestial breads
they do not stop lifting on my neck.
Again the storm
and the teeth of heaven carry torrents
and decapitated children
they go around my sex looking for the lost heads.
My cravings are the glasses;
they pick up the color of the storm
and when you get next to me
a gesture is enough to make you roll
and pounce on you
and show you the wild belly
of love.
I penetrate you
I penetrate you
between blue screams, between flames,
between pains, gasps and rabbits
who escape this apocalypse
without clothes and without skin.
We crawl.
We penetrate.
We lick each other.
I vomit your body.
You throw up my skin
and we join the mud
and in the midday sun
the galaxies explode and throw more desire
on the silent groaning of the skin.
The storm subsides.
The oxen of calm
they come from a distant sun
You are naked
asleep, almost dead
and your lips barely whisper to me
and a red stream
run in a universe
loaded with slopes.
Again the storm
I murmur in your left ear
You do not answer. You open your hips
And you show me your swollen clit that points
to the heart of the sun.




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