Between two translucent breasts,
A honey river flows,
Like warm hymns,
of dove wings,
With moonlight,
To the shores of her love
Mellow Songs are sung there,
And sighs like Summer candles,
Are sighed there,
With the Crescents dew
As an exotic Moon, jazz,
And the wax of this Song,
Caresses the sweet hair,
The Crescent dews,
and willows of her ethereal body
Reynaldo Casison