My princess is a beautifuul babe
and fountain of my desire
and flame of wonderfull nights.
whem I dreamed to be with her
caressing the face and the hair.
She lights me on fire
the fire of love
the fire of life.
But the splendour is only poetry
a trick of the imagination
because I am lonely and sad
a point lost in the universe
of her infinite behaviors.
I miss her sugar kisses
the satin of the flesh
the pure touch of reality.
Antonio Carlos Rocha
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