Music that covers me
kidnapped and driven by its heat path.
An avenue of violent desire
pushes me to your field: a gathering of gypsies,
around a fire and poor light.
A tribal dance by the smell takes me back to warm moments
and passion that I thought off.
whisper feet gypsies
words uncontrollable love;
the more dancers in a circle, shaking her skirts
masterfully
that enchants the senses.
The black, thick curly hair and shake,
searching for the woman who is weak in me, condemning
to recall sweet steps. At the sound of that music
traitor, the human chain broke
with all your soul and begin to dance passionately
. More and more salt
my memory,
travels farther and farther, until you reach the sky
I thought was sunk
humanity forgets to hide.
Franca
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