The Poetry Marathon

Elegant lady,
I respect and appreciate you.
To be under your mantle is for the brave.
The idea of solitude is obsolete,
one person represents many categories
and almost never
have you as an advisor.

In this time of information and speed, everything is a reason for unity and celebration.
Hardly anyone is removed from these facts anymore
and therefore hardly anyone has the courage to stand alone.

Many ideas have been accepted
in the name of not accepting the true facts.
Almost no one is alone,
and if that is the case,
that is a case of bravery
that should be
documented day by day.

In her dark cloak
she takes refuge,
in the glow of the moon,
she shines,
her dilated pupils focus
on the nocturnal beasts,
thirsty they come out to quench
their thirst of hunger.
She escapes the sun and day,
both dry her glow and delicate skin,
but the moon rejuvenates her
tissues making her
immortality eternal.

Honey-colored eyes
that taste like autumn,
brown eyes
that taste like summer land,
blue eyes
that taste like winter sky,
green eyes
that taste like a fresh spring,
daffodil eyes
that when they look at me
make me lose myself
in the depth
of their charm

My lips moistened
your soul,
my words stunned
your thoughts,
you stopped loving me
when I showed you
that you were no longer the sun
of my days and
the moon of my nights.

You stopped loving me when
you stopped being my horizon,
You stopped loving me when
you stopped being a dragon
and became a man.

You stopped loving me when
you stopped being my shadow,
You stopped loving me when
you let my body
and my lips belong to another man.

Lover of icy winds
winds,
Lover of snow,
Lover of attire
covered with coarse cloth,
Wide boots,
Freezing days,
Cloudy skies,
Dry sunshine
and lots of beauty.

Born in the mountains,
lover of the cold,
wrapped in the height,
caramel skin,
city of devils,
city of carnival,
city of cold,
city of sin,
city of strength
and work.

On this day of September,
I am overwhelmed,
two of my passions
have crossed pads,
while writing words
and exchanging love,
I stay awake,
words come to me,
so do his kisses
making lines
on my body,
I create poems
while I moan.

While I write
my ideas on a
screen, he makes
love to me,
moon and stars
see how a September
night became
a beautiful constellation
of literature and sensuality.

I hate you for making
me so vulnerable,
so addicted to the smell
of your skin and the
summer sweat.

There is an inferno
that awakens inside of me
and only you
can extinguish that
need with which I
I was born.

I saw you so vulnerable,
so willing
to consume yourself in my fire.
You no longer seek heaven,
you want to burn
with me in this game.

I will not deny,
that in this world,
the true pleasure
is the one that has
to do with burning
with another being.

In the flames of desire,
I am a slave to that fire,
one attempt is not enough for me.
my skin requires
more serum and that substance
from kisses together
with the humidity of your body.

I am no longer looking for heaven,
I gave myself to the
flames of desire
and there I burn in sweat
and breath of fire.

I cannot contain
the thirst I carry
inside me, so I just
little by little give in.

Between the walls,
inside that room
listening to her voice,
the voice is creating lust,
outside I can’t be me,
I can’t be naked,
but inside
I’m free to feel,
I keep smiling,
I let him look at me,
I’m still sexual,
I call him with my body,
I feel him inside me.