He whispered no, and sent me to Hades. Crossed himself to the four winds & closed the door without a sound. Eight inch heels, your kiss is like a Tango between my legs. Gardel, crashed his plane in Medellin. This marbel sink feels cold on my breasts. My lips pressed against the mirror at my grand mother's house. 27,000 feet above Sea level coffee grows well, yet so does Coca. Like I said, "The rooster crows deep" in the Caldera 4 fingers below my newly pink umbelicus. Auburn hair entangeled in his Rolex, watch. It's about time. Strong grip, supple neck, back arched, song through. Out thru the balcony I see the open market, Indians in Ruanas bartering Emeralds weith their dirty under nail teething mouths. Sour-sap, starfruit , and mangos. For me there is no trading since my souls long bartered. Sold for for a past life left unlived. Now, as I hear tolling Cathederal bells weep... I think, this one I'll keep.