Enero

In my dream last night, I experienced one of these moments. She was in the form of a local girl, Andalucia, a woman I've lusted after for as long as I can remember. She came to me in my dream like Guadalupe -- a sheath of white gossamer gown flowing behind her, the warm night window at her back. I pulled her to me, rapturous whispered spanish emerging from my lips. I kissed her mouth deeply, savoring her tongue. Her aroma was redolent of hyacinth and and pressed rosemary; each soft hair on her arm brushed against my fingers, a charged electric current thrilling straight down my spine.

I spread her legs and licked her like an animal, placing my hands beneath her soft buttocks and lifting her moistness to my mouth. Ravenously slurping and sucking like a parched desert traveler lapping at an oasis fountain. I pawed and snarled furiously. She, in turn, moaned and clawed at my hair, a goddess transformed to beast.

But here's the strange part. After a few minutes, I pulled my head from her molten feminine crucible. I looked into those eyes and said, "Consolidated Repropizza."

Then, suddenly: awake. A bull grunting outside. Darkness.