Carlos Drummond de andrade
The tongue licks the red petals
multi-open rose; the tongue plows
hidden button, and weaves
quick variations of light rhythms.
And lick, lick, lick,
the licorine hairy cave,
and the more licking, the more active,
hits heaven from heaven, between moans,
between screams, bleats and roars
of lions in the forest, enraged.
Carlos Drummond de Andrade BARBOSA, Rita de Cássia. Erotic poems by Carlos Drummond de Andrade. São Paulo: Ática, 1987.