In his arms, not in his heart.
I twist, I turn,
He won’t hold me tight.
No warmth, just a white bed sheet,
It’s freezing, this heart’s concrete.
Unwrapping his dead still hands,
I turn around again,
In search for warmth…
A moment flies by---
I pull myself closer,
I dig into his chest deeper.
Where’s the warmth?
Where is the love?
Another moment crawling---
I find myself double checking…
Looking around the room,
Then drawing him nearer.
Third moment onwards---
I know, I know now!
Red lipstick. A piece of cloth,
They have stained, they have killed it all!
What am I hunting for?
For that, which was never there?!
In a black skirt,
And with less than a blouse,
I crawl my body out of bed.
An hour’s gone by…
His time, it’s over,
Now I must, let him go---
For there’s another coming,
For a second good hour.
And then, a third hour,
Some more red shall wipe off these lips.
Tainted, diseased, darkened,
Some needs must remain unseen…
Off the bed,
Some touch to the unfeeling eyes,
I have to look my best,
Their payment must be worth it!
My feelings, this vacuum,
These screams,
A curse, many fallen boons,
They shall die, when left unknown…
Another man,
This present hour---
A foreign touch,
Cold, frozen arms.
Two machines working,
Two souls drifting apart…
Only an act,
For only sometime…
With no beyond and no unknowns,
Some moans, the rest only sighs,
This is the fallen paradise.