What I love to see is a big lazy-boy chair

With your beautiful body in it

Like a bloated stove

Baking two loaves of bread.

On your enormous hairdo

There is an acre of perfume.

The sea smells like a moldy bun

Floating above your head.

Like a fisherman who reveals

The winds of the morning

My love refuses to put any clothes on

Because the sky owes her money.

Your eyes, where nothing is revealed

That is soft or like the sea,

Are two cold young girls filling their mouths

With gold and with fire.

Upon seeing you walking by

Beauty abandons itself

Onto the train tracks dancing like a serpent

Under the weight of a cattle car.

Under the far-away ocean is your caress

And the head of your child.

Balanced between them is the modesty

Of a young elephant.

And your body stretches out

As the last water poured from a vessel

As it rolls against the side of a ship and plunges

With Jules Verne into the ocean.

Like a walrus floating on its belly near the tip

Of a grumpy iceberg,

When the water from your mouth is spat out

Between your teeth

I could drink it as the wine of a handsome woman,

Loved, and conquered,

A liquid sky that sets apart

Each of the stars in my heart.