You,
my fucker Gringa,
here,
in this fucking place,
with me,
your fucker,
fucking.

Living
in the disorder of your mouth;
exploiting in your pleasures, Blonde.

In this fucking perfection
I would can never to be romantic,
and I need to be romantic with you.

When the live is only this:
fuck and fuck and fuck all day
I write:
only is possible write about the fuck.

In this fucking perfection
I would cannot write never
better than your poetry
when you drink
glass to glass
drop to drop
fuck to fuck
my completly love.