Love is vain, wishing

to service all the people --


who are sweet for you.

I dream me with you:

tacitly I take my clothes --


off for your desire.

It was a nice day
out together, home together
as every day
should be like

The table nicely set
each other's eyes caught
everything at its best
strained and temporised

After showering
I stand in the bedroom
in front of my closet
without **** clothes

Nothing to wear
to ****** you
on the clean sheets
romantically like women

surrender from the bottom
of their hearts to a man
hoping he is willing
to do the same

With tender hands
you may carefully
undress and caress me

give me big kisses
heat and cold
won't harm me, I smell

fertile in your arms
open you with my skin
strip you of calluses

and stiffness, yes I do
want to be pregnant
with you, without temptation

be desired by you
every day, I want all
of you, cherish children

and grandchildren
in gardens and orchards
with a house full of rooms

Love does not have to be
lovely all the time, they say
if you keep rough and soft
balanced
and use your imagination

We do it
we love
fantastic films
with a little horror
deep gorges, high mountains
the pleasant begging
for more more, for
a happy ending

We are nice and easy
they say, and we are
but at home, we play
like falling angels
nice and rough

Love adorns itself

with longing and with sadness –


with insomnia.

A sultry evening,

with red veil ribbons, the sea –


wild, dancing naked.

What we do in the bushes
just have a look, if you are passing by
we deny everything you think

we kindle a blazing fire
foot by foot, hand by hand
what the spinner indicates

one step on my blue pants
one hand on the yellow sand
the delay is exciting

like the first time, now the other
hand on the green grass
one leg on the red bag

until I fall over and his skin
intercepts the ***** biting flies
for me, just look

I disappear in his fire
I melt, I singe, I tremble
I'm the bride again

The elder wears my wedding dress
allures me closer and lifts me back

in His arms, lays me down
on the bed again, is spreading
over my beauty

in the beach house near the waterfall
that ice-cold whipped my hands

when I passed behind the roaring
shuffling sidewards with Him
over a ledge of surrender

of which the fire was invisible
for the couples who didn't dare

What am I doing here open and exposed
in the street with His head weightless
in my empty hands

weighing His buttocks and stroking
the lust of His erectile tissue

in my empty hands
in old smells
and white elder

When you embrace me

I can't do anything else –


only embrace you.