Your steps are clockmaker's ticking,
my heart-opened door;
a feigning-mannered "hello"
like a wolf in sir's clothing.
Screws me up but I'm enjoying
our sugar-free bonus track;
these orgasms that you won't forget
are now our secret smuggling.
"It will all be over", said a wise one day;
I really don't want to know when
will you stop filling my empty bed.
And, even though it takes ages dying,
please be good and let this gullible laugh
'cause the future is backing down her.
Versión en inglés de este eterno soneto.