Spanish Fountains

Spanish Fountains:
 
Overlapping each other
palpable dreams
my fingers
traced a crinkle
[sucking]
luminosity fondling her
fluffy loquat groins;
shadow strips rubbing
[my tongue]

       A sign points the way out, though I know that’s a fake thing.
       Nobody wants to leave!
       Outside the cold vanishes smiles, anguishes
       trees, cracks memories of us
       bathing naked, your breast breathing the
       surface of our hands, soaked in hot water.

through the shutters, plenty
of light coming
clipped onto our dimmed
bodies
gone by in sugared
lewdness.

, I still look at it, wishing it was true.
The room was square, cozy. The sign blinked if running away with eyes.
There was a view.

© 2014, José Eduardo Coelho