Femme Sauvage

An untamed tangle of wild blackberries, voluptuous musk, randy dark patchouli, and the warmth of come-hither ambers.

Past the blackberries,
the reeds and the hawthorne underneath her cluster of hair
I made a hollow in the earth I took off my tie,
she too off her dress.
I, my belt with the revolver,
She, her four bodices.
Nor nard nor mother-o’-pearl have skin so fine,
nor does glass with silver shine with such brilliance.
Her thighs slipped away from me like startled fish,
half full of fire, half full of cold.
That night I ran on the best of roads mounted on a nacre mare without bridle stirrups.
As a man, I won’t repeat the things she said to me.
The light of understanding has made me more discreet.
Smeared with sand and kisses I took her away from the river.
- Frederico Garia Lorca