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
into my garden
and back
to the bed
where we would spend
restless hours
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
What else do we do?
we’d spend hours –
you in a coffin,
under the earth
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.

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