He speaks the lost language

of Tierra del Fuego,

wearts t-shirts woven

from the sweet dreams

of sinners.

 

There is power to his stride,

he harbors dynamite

in his muscles,

grace to his step

as the fuse offers salvation.

 

He rinses his mouth

with unabashed flirtation,

coating each spoken word

with appealing inuendo.

 

Men want to be him.

Women want to have him.

But he is a warrior of conquest,

collecting hearts like scalps

in a box under the bed.

 

Copyright 2017