Fucker

I wish we could be together
just for a day
and a night, of course.
We would begin with watering flowers
in my garden
and while we do that
I would hold you
from behind
and say:
I need water, too.
Then you,
with your red curls
at the end of the hair
walk away
and I would follow
you
into my garden
and back
to the bed
where we would spend
restless hours
panting,
in sweat,
switching positions,
talking in whispers
of passions and desires
and sins, of course.
And when the evening sun
projects its light
onto our porch,
we would make love
again.
What else do we do?
Eventually,
we’d spend hours –
you in a coffin,
under the earth
and
me burning,
in a funeral pyre
with onlookers watching
and enjoying the excited flames.
But our love
upsetting the bed sheets
would freeze
like a ball of snow
in the ever burning
fire of hell.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s