Anabella who sold papers cries because her lover left my soul hurts my eyelids close her hand is dry i dive into her painful voice there is no bottom it is dark how many tears did she cry?

autumn day

i met you on an autumn day when Anabella was selling papers in the street you looked at me with fervid eyes and I knew then you’d never leave

bullfighter (matador de toros) #poetry

my dress is red your heart is pounding the passion of all matadors de toros is bleeding from your arms into my veins your eyes flame every soul in Salamanca your fight is dance your body burns the bull is raging flesh is cracking roses from my hair fall on your wounds stars are deaf…

sounds of flutes #poetry

listen to the horses gallop in the water on the edge of autumn axes of blue passion intersect your laughter chestnuts crack the time heaving their fruits bake my lips with love born from sounds of flutes

the dance of Isabella

come and watch the dance of Isabella the rhythm of castanets awakes the moon her body tilts the oleander axis of the wind her hips rotate into the autumn of the fires   an iguana stumbles on profuse desires opening her eyes on Isabella’s chest your forehead sinks into the sweat of lovers who step…