Can You Get Herpes On Forehead

THE PASSION OF CHRIST




( to Diego Martin, who loves Paris)


My father was a hippie
never punished me why I need to be punished

released me as we entered the hotel dancer
I'm closing the door to the room number twenty-two when he breaks his tune


wait a minute, my boyfriend goes

balcony to cool

me naked and I lie
no exaggeration to say that it takes twenty minutes to return to stay
is placed at the foot of the bed and caresses her pussy while I spit


is sick is jealous
police, I I swear!

and Descojonado

for in those we
I and lying

she Descojonado
standing in front of me
pajeandose

I have the pussy like the tongue of an angel
fuck me now!

and I

clear it did not take the opposite


're fucking

missionary

her head in my hands and resumes
whore melody
but no longer rising moan

deep breath and


tell me ... if you listen, let me sleep tomorrow work
if it ... me too, my love ... until tomorrow


hangs up and tells me

not worry, no calls back.

throws the phone to the blue carpet

and start riding to the sound of the rain the sun

opens my eyes
no trace of his body on the pillow


you a shout the read

I am Christ whom you and me down the tree.

C lace the little paper on the table
sat on the edge of the bed
leaned his elbows on his knees and hid


head in my hands .

Lucusville Fleemarket Dates

POEM WRITTEN TO SEVENTEEN (in the manner of Benedetti)



may love



course it is possible
moon that I can give you a hug every night
musitarte


ear sorrows and rescue the wind between the lips and even listen

without your breathing


course it is possible

as it is possible that the needle

boredom
your project we propose unsupportive
against
already know that you and I

victory is keep loving keep fucking

for not realizing that still crying for no

realize if you go for not returning your arms will
arms around tonight
empty and your feet will

half hanging on the edge of another bed and your eyes

dardara
indifferent portrait I made you that Brando
and your sex will be sex sex
and your tongue will sleep in another
mouth and your breath off me
sail again to be that guy with the soul
take in the corner playing Unicorn

to be in this world

frosted glass but it must be possible

it should be possible to meet again and finally

I need

may love




course not impossible.




"And your feet will be half hanging on the edge of another bed