Saturday, June 29, 2013

Mon pluie femme...

Why do you come?
At odd hours some?
Don't you know dear
How much my own fire I fear?

Last night
You came like a drizzle...
That was somewhat tolerable...
But now...
Like ...
Le gel douche...
You me bathe...
Just
Only you can...

Is it right?
O femme fatale mine?
To cause such
Hit?
When I am on the street...
And when the road long is creeping towards
The horizon?

Why do you come?
In ways such...
Le gel douche...
Bathing me...
Taking me
To such a height?
That I have no wish to have anything
But with redness on white
I just keep flooded my heart with gigabytes
Of writes...

O!
How you me ignite!
O!
How you pit me with mirrory fight!
How I die
Losing senses -
On wet carpet
Of trance...
And then
O you
Rainy dame
Resurrect
Me
From ashes...
Like a Phoenix...

And again
I dare
To fly...
Bereft of all
Bare...

No comments:

Post a Comment

The State Funeral

At least they have given her The State Funeral With tongue cut,  She could not have spoken for  The rare award,  The police have done the th...