Dance floor

 


In a circle
You with me here
Turning in vain
Around the same wounds turning
Endlessly turning, the same sound

The slippery dance-floor oozing out over my center
The rounded pain
Sweet wounds turning
Sweet words surrounding their dance in a circle
 
Like a corrupted blood in the veins of my memory
Drowning me
Some drops of secret ecstasy
Exquisite wounds, my best lovers
Such a wonderful harmony
Drowning you with me

Somewhere
In the circle
The squeaking of our soles

On the dance floor, their morbid sparkles
Creaking.

 

June 2010