I was playing my friend and her husband.
All their white was my black.
I had grown them in thirst and temptation,
Sacred love and devotion.
Among walls of red clay, bent and hostile,
And a floor of white sand,
Behind nuclear rockets, they kissed -
Touchy fingers, tight hands.
Deep lies buried my love, mute her moan.
Under truces for blame,
Under trillions of hate.
My heart denser than stone,
Glowing red, just too old to explode.
***
© Copyright: Кохаку Кикоо, 2015
Свидетельство о публикации №115071402701
Свидетельство о публикации №115071402701
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