The dark dance calls
softly,
like night shade or
oleander.
Just a little taste...
Just one more slow
waltz.
I can smell her
wet orchid while
I sleep.
She moves languidly
through my dreams,
possessing me at
dawn with lambent steps.
The love is
violent, like a
bullfight.
It's sweet and
treacherous, ferocious.
Fatal for
one of us,
and she's been
gored.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
It's about toxic relationships.