The gypsy girl
with wild black curls
dances with the moon
in the town square.
The impish moon
tarries on her nubile breasts
and the spiteful padre aroused
chases the impish moon away.
the moon
the moon
the moon
The moon drips honey
between her August tinted breasts.
Floating on six steel butterflies
she bathes her nubile breasts
with frankincense and myrrh.
Tonight, she aches for Africa—
wild like the feral Bedouins
wild like the guitars in the town square
and she swirls in dreams
of seething Moorish winds,
bareback on Arabian horses.
Tonight, all night
we lie on pristine white sheets.
I'm inside her! At last, I'm inside her!
Inside the girl with the wild black curls
and the rhythms of flamenco burn us.
te amo
te amo
my gypsy girl
with the wild black curls
I love you.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem