It was ecstatic electricity.
That touch of velvety, delicious skin,
the sun had, reasonably, retreated
and in the forest we felt wild and free.
The lift was out, and people walked
down from the thirteenth floor
some also went (but never talked)
upstairs which was a chore.
The sun got up and saw the moon.
'Why are you out of bed so soon? '
'It is because a moon's required
to light the way when you've retired
Good-bye my love,
you may not ever know,
that there was not
since Attila the Hun
He took another look
while she sat there,
by the half-open curtains,
catching the afternoon sun
Red roses ripen, fruits for eyes in love
I pick just one, so velvety, dishevelled
and hold you close to stubbles of the past
there is a kinship here, of growth and lust
A people who
adores its mothers
will travel on a cloud
of high esteem.
I met out by the bridge across the Rhine
a man who introduced himself as Rilke.
He carried with him a substantial flagon of red wine
and offered, with a melancholy smile as well
Then what are hiders?
Could they be spiders
or backstabbing riders
who cling to the coattails