Then you think I look at you with innocence. As if I had not dared to touch you or was totally harmless, unable to make you bleed. But I'm not like that.

And it's not that you do not know. You know everything about me.

I am the verb of lust, the scratch, the slapped, the spanking of your divinity. I am the naked satyr who kisses your sex with the passion of my flesh. I am The Saint of Beauty and pain. I am the pleasure brought from the center of the universe. And you make me yours.

I remember the time we said those little things that we love and we get the most "vulgar" of us while still being beautiful.

You are my millennial beast, my nymph of storms, my little bitch addicted to my bites. And that time we walked together to hell. You looked for some straps and so never get away from the novel that we wrote in our bed sheets. Written stories with the Caribbean of your breasts and the waters of my flesh.

You can think that I'm a violent when I penetrate you hard with the poetic voice of my fire, when I give you the spanking that you scream out to me while I dance inside you. Or when you twerk with your sexy lingerie that the demons brought to the world on the day of my birth. Or when I fuck you with my heat to the rhythm of dvsn songs.

But you do not think so. All that excites you, it warms you up. You like our consensual violence based on love.

Therefore I'm sure that you continue with your readings to my letters, where continue the infernal flare of two bodies addicted to blood.

Alma, my everything, I love you, I can write the worst poems in the world just to tell you everything I feel for you. I'm the bad writer by your side because I love when you tell your sex: totona, cuca, chocho, coño, toto, totico and all the names that deserve your sex, honestly say vagina is counter-exciting.

You know, sex is the liberation of all that we are and we do not allow ourselves to be And in every carnal encounter with you I am the angel that betrayed God. And you, my nymph.

I love you Alma, my Caribbean girl, my lil bitch, my flower of romance. The only one in my life. you give me everything

I had to die to make you mine, in the beyond. You wait for me to write an infinite story in new bed sheets.