114 Moche Ai-apaec

This carousel that frets the nerves It pushes me, it shakes me, it winks at me To temper the tightrope or the ropes Thread of all or nothing.

He wants a spark to jump the pinion From time to summer He wants to warm my skin.

Or sometimes flirting today. Coz bring By the pores annoyance Or kaleidoscope in fruits From unjust parties caressing hospitable to the Impatient worm

And I despair to feed I recriminate myself, I blame myself For not breaking at once That grotesque portion That sows worms Ask for permits and Call love dying.

And cover the ice I resign to play I think Don't go around the corners Tie the tie Head down And suffocate the sky Every protest.

114 Moche Aiapaec

114 Moche Ai-apaec

In the Huacas of the Sun and the Moon Puff pastry adobe pyramids Temple and forum Of murmur crystal mist. Beyond your stands The potter above refines his handle And in his well of after fugitive revelries He paints with his reef and coral bristle brush In sonatas fleeing distant flow from globulated and decapitated faces And serpentine battles in hubbub And pour on this globular vase Creamy and red the thirst and its relief, its forbidden blue And hummingbirds, yucca, papaya, custard apples and potatoes.

Pray there from your lost height Alienated chews, crossing his feline fangs, His mana in the wavy and green watering of the beach In the ferment of cactus and corn. Prayed there close to one of the strung strings that tune us In the everlasting reflection of metallic masks With her sparkling eyes painting The naked horror of the void between the ear muffs and the nose rings