I hold her breath
in my mouth
and wait for her
to gasp
to put her lips
on mine
to fill her lungs
with air
again and again,
and again
until she develops a habit
of wanting
my mouth oh hers
more than
just the need of sucking air
through my lips.
I let her get used
to it
a couple of weeks
until I'm certain
she fell in love with me
until she
tells me she fell in love
with me.
Then I hit her, hard
over the mouth
whenever she pushes her tongue
into my mouth
until eventually my presence
makes her
coil like a rattlesnake, when I come home.
Then she'll buy
a cheap blue suitcase
with dots
on one side, and stripes
on the other
for whatever she has left to take
and disappear
while I'll be busy writing
to Alma
a muse I know
from a friend's poems.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem