Fire spoke to her before the child was born, caressing her long hair, her pale skin
speaking sweetly, making sweet promises, seducing her into a state of insensibility.
The child beat its tiny fists against its watery cradle crying out voicelessly until
the woman heeded. And, let Fire play awhile, so no one could suspect what she
knew through the unborn child, no one would suspect what she was about to do.
Fire's heat grew more amorous, fanning his desires until he made more promises, and more, but just as they thought that it was all done with, and was about to end, she leapt
over to the other side where Water waited quietly, but Fire was quick too, for the moment when her feet were poised to take the leap he reached out with his long tongue and gave her a kiss.
So she would always remember the bitter almond taste of his longing.
(First Published in The Bare Root Review, USA)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem