i look within the mirror (things are not looking good)
a mind of a man; a soul of a woman: when my dreams
stretch out love surrenders.
My body, savaged by pain (i am as a peasant)
— makes romantic spirits
leap into the bottom of a
deep chasm of Earth.
The soul can never get old a marching army of night
invaded me as a weapon; but as i breath i repel
the hordes with my heat
i sought a woman so strong
, intelligent and soft: a body of skin, of fire,
of firm and thirsty milk!
i hold her bountiful breasts ! and hug warm and womanhood.
still i feel i am sinking:
so now you know. my thirst and desire for woman without
end — a wavering tight road!
so now. I know there are cemeteries so lonely, for my kind.
Dead bones that do not move. but all dead and
living hearts move through a tunnel!
:: 09.09.2020 ::