Yes,
tonight would be the night.
I hoped.
She was growing more enthusiastic.
It was several months, in between.
He and I both grabbed her.
Totally not caring,
whether she lived or died so long as it came off.
The routine tonight was different,
when she ripped her panties off and purple Violets.
What you saw,
were petals scattered wide across
the wind blown street.
Our crowning moment was as She remembered last.
Long after she had lost her consciousness.
I could see her body jerking and as those long fingers
dug so deeply into her neck that I think we broke it.
We were young and wild and had no limits.
Dumping her body right out side of Austin Texas.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem