Bubbling from her mouth. Deeper: words written with her guts rather than her hand coming now from her stomach, crawling up her throat and out through her full, dry, painted red lips, right to my ear. I don’t even know what she’s talking about, I feel happily dizzy. In Barcelona for pocket change you can have an erotic poem whispered in your ear. This delivery service is provided by Prostíbulo Poético (literally, ‘Poetry Brothel’), an association devoted to filling people’s lives with poetry, erotica and beauty. They are poets and performers, but they prefer to call themselves ‘whores’. No touching allowed, although your skin might skim through the whore’s pilosity. Goosebumps, they call it. Piloerection, I’d rather say. To seduce someone through words is rarer than the most commonly use of bodily language; that’s why it’s so alluring. Some know and a few know how to.