I climbed the height of Machu Pichu
To see your nocturnal play.
Your silver glow
Dancing under the mouths of caves.
My dark skeleton of rock solid stones,
Which make the brown grass
Shimmer in pathos of love;
Savor your glittering thighs;
Made of sweet-smelling-sweat of pains.
My stone-faced-Incan-Angel,
I come to you
Since the beginning of time
To seek truth
In the bosom of rain-soaked-marigold
And to smell your melancholic breath.
I am your wanderer,
The forgotten warrior,
Biblical architect
And you are my
Divine stone face.
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