Sugar Chick, Made of metal flowers and aluminium razors
In your veins smoothly circulate the pentagram and the pride of the spring polen
Your hips know many stories, untold secrets
Your beats confuse constantly with the marching of ancestral warriors.
Sugar Chick, my Rocker babe
in the wildness of your labyrinthian ideas runs naked the sound of freedom,
just perceptible as a whispers in the ears of the slaved human nature,
strong as thunder in the ears of those ones who embrace the insanity of the senses
Rocker chick, Electric orchid
In your hands the four seasons find shelter
and I enrapture until losing myself in front of the mirror
© Alex Henriquez 2010
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