Hasta el Fondo del Zahuán

To the Bottom of the Hallway

today I remembered that I spoke to your belly button, using formal 'you'
that for me it was forbidden to ring the doorbell
Today I found a neon light in your brassiere
in the middle of the wonder-bra boulevard I stumbled upon an unfastened brooch

where I found the key to your tequila kisses
from your tar mouth of lips that bit
from your desires that sucked my gas to penetrate you
to the middle of your soul and to the bottom of the hallway
with a tangerine scent.

And behind your calves fresh plum pulp
the songs ended, the moans began
with your nails and your teeth you signed all my back
with your skirt lifted and with a tangerine scent

testing these intentions
so bad but so good
like warm milk
like in the middle of your legs

today I remembered that I spoke to your belly button...

and that night we gave green light to traffic lights
the padlocks of stockings and panties were broken
love opened the legs and leaned them on my shoulders
all the legs opened, we traveled the contours
of the skins and in the end of penetrating you without calm
my soul got stuck to the bottom of the hallway
and to the bottom of the hallway your soul got flooded
and to the bottom of the hallway my soul remained imprisoned