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THE WOMAN.

in her secret life

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happy

Loneliness 

I’m in love with a man who loves Loneliness.

He needs it just like people need air.

Every night, he makes friends with his nightmares;

and in his unconsciousness, Loneliness leaves him a kiss.

He wakes up, next to me and lingers his cheek,

where the last night secret kiss was placed.

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Closer.

I sat on a sunny balcony-

when a bird told me you were now in my country.

My heart. paused.

A sun-drop mingled on the green green leaves.

Coral sun colored my cheeks just suddenly.

“Ah, yes”…my lips murmured secretly,

“He is coming closer to me”.

Her kiss.

Last night she kissed a tattoo on his chest,

where his heart beat the same as the day they met-

clumsily and uncontrollably mad-

while her lips stain was burning red,

like a poison from the Death –

fatal yet irresistible.

“Take me”, he begged.

CALCULATION.

Dear, do you calculate?

“Nope”, I bet you would say.

Your eyebrows always make a curve,

when I talk about numbers.

But have you noticed ever?

It’s 122 days we’ve been together; and

already 10 nights I depressed my cheek on your shoulder.

 

And in 24 hours of a day,

54,000 seconds alone I would stay_

turn my jazz on, sit on the window sill and wait

’til 2 hands of the clock shape an angle of 30 degree

and you would come back to me,

leaving hungry touches over my thirsty body_

And love would sweep through the night,

as if there would never be goodbyes.

 

After all, I know… they’re just numbers

that one day I will not remember.

But dear, does it really matter?

My boring calculations make me happier,

everyday when the numbers keep growing bigger.

 

And I’m grateful that we’re still together.

 

Love you.

 

Come.

Baby baby

Come come to me

Hurry hurry

Afraid don’t be

Just cross the seas

Dance with the bees

Blood reds your knees

Refrain don’t be

One day you’ll see

A strawberry

Ripen in me

Hurry hurry

Come come baby.

A hot damp night of November.

In a hot damp night of November, he slaughtered her silvery body and whispered: “Now you are my girl”.

His fingers entwined hers and his kisses burned her skin redder and redder.

“Please enter”, her lips made a secret curve.

GIN & TONIC

He fills the air

by the smell of juniper.

His eyes glow

when the night grows darker.

Gin and tonic is spilled all over

a chest,

a lips,

and a kiss

of my choco lover.

I kneel down on a bed sheet

as white as pearl,

enamor him, sliding my tongue

over his curves,

taste him wildly when he slowly

enters.

WINE.

I don’t drink wine.

Never did I.

But dear,

you taste so fine

like fresh grapes

from the vine.

I want you

all to be mine.

Would you mind?

He and Me.

He is an opposition of me:

A hunter of victory,

a seeker of glory_

who cannot cease, despite difficulties.

And I’m helplessly drowning in his vanity.

 

He’s also a man of duty

carrying on his shoulder other destinies_

Always, he’s been busy and busy.

For a long time, he wished for a remedy

that could bring him peace.

 

Me don’t live in his history nor next journeys

Me can’t give him apathy or liberty.

But me will sing him a melody of fantasies,

lift him off the gravity

and ease his misery

with my secret recipe.

 

Hope he’ll soon be happy!

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