The Clear Dampness of your Sex






The Clear Dampness of your Face


Are you willing to fill my white spaces? 
Can we conspire, can you force me 
to exhale my infinite hunger of you? 
Must you radiate the thirst of my skin 

through the endless latitudes, the nectars 
of your sex? Am I losing my footing
inside the ruins of this sinister hotel?
When are you hiding these overcast words 

and their meanings?  Who can ignore 
the fear of men knee deep in the turbid 
waters of an ocean guided by the intuition 
of drowned colors?

Ay, mi soledad, 
riddling conundrum 
for the absence 
of figurative speech.

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