And I took her to the river
believe that was a maiden, but she had a husband
.
Santiago was the night of almost
and commitment.
The lanterns were lit and crickets.
In the last corner I touched her sleeping breasts
and
opened to me suddenly like spikes of hyacinth.
starch
her petticoat sounded in my ear,
as a piece of silk
rent by ten knives.
without silver light on their foliage
trees have grown, and a horizon
dogs barked very far from river. CHTML XC
*
Past the blackberries, the reeds and the hawthorne underneath her cluster
hair made a hole in the earth.
I took off my tie.
She took off her dress. I
belt with the revolver.
She, her four bodices. Nor nard nor shells
have skin so fine, nor
glass with silver shine with such brilliance.
Her thighs slipped away from me like startled fish
,
half full of fire,
half full of cold. That night I ran
the best ccause though she had a husband, she told me she was a maiden
as I was taking her to the river.
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