Monday, November 5, 2018

Burrito’s Way By Mendes Biondo

a slow hot blues was playing
and the room was full of smells of
sour cream
we were dancing while the meat was seething

so you want to eat Mexican goodies huh?
you asked me
yes it would be fine
I like spicy flavors
I said

a sad trumpet sang its part when you kissed me
it was a calavera dance out of the kitchen
a dark windy october night
the lights in the house were suffused
and your hands were cold

so be my spice
make my skin glow like those peppers
hot and lustful
let my labias kiss your lips with fire
this mexican dinner could await
but I can’t do the same for your sour cream
you said

I took the bottle of wine and we went in bedroom
I drunk a sip and then shared it with your pussy
you closed your eyes and
veracruz was a place near to you
so the sands of Mexican beaches
and the ocean
that flood coming and going like your hands on my head
that wind blowing through the palms like my tongue on you
I found the spice of life inside you
a postcard from  a place we’ve never seen
but we were there

at the end you’ve been still hungry
what about those hot burritos?
you asked
let me give them a warmth
I said and the sad music changed into
a hot fiery ranchera

About Mendes Biondo: 
Mendes Biondo is an Italian journalist and author. His works appeared on Visual Verse, I Am Not A Silent Poet, Literary Yard, Angela Topping Hygge Feature,  Indigent A La Carte, The BeZine, Scrittura Magazine, The Song Is, Poetry Pasta and other magazines. He is one of the editors of The Ramingo's Porch along with Marc Pietrzykowski and Catfish McDaris. His first book of poems will be published soon by Pski's Porch Publishing.

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