Waxed Genitalia (femail)

There
your
Sacándole these stones sparks fire Provoking
where there is nothing
Dressing back to the old. There you are your

Healing the sick wings
Using your own wings
Provoking flight where there is land. Building

early morning naps
Sleeping
then relaxed in the evenings playing
Provoking always the beginning
always Achieving tenderness.

There you are with your hair scattered

your eyes swollen with sleep
But with your small chest open
Provoking the arrival of more dreams.

Then the night comes
Wearing of old to the new
The charm of the fairy
Wrap your little body,
return to the place where born
And at the same site that we all belong, seem useless hours

Without the precious object of memory.

But the magic never ends
your smell still remains space
marks your steps sincere. There you are your

Sanándoles their souls
causing their own fire.