Releasing my awe and unbearable passion,

I`m cutting my chest, burning runes of survival.

Hark! The fowl convulses. The dark blood is spilled over.

Night is as fast as a deadly shot.

You can see no faces. Only dark grim figures.

Your red dreams will burst like volcanic flow.

My ardent body runs through the cruel rain.

I have closed the doors. I have chosen peace.

Thousands of eyes. These are passion beasts.

Soon there will be none. Napalm waits for them.

2017

Morning After

Like with hot lava I`m seething with sex.

The cold wall of rain blurs over grey windows.

The morning. The bitterness. The poems. The snow.

I feel pleasure and pain, I think, I`m weirdo.

The time waits for so long, but then spins away.

The day that decays for me sends innuendos.

I can't breathe without you. And your silhouette

I see in the park, but I lurk in the shadows.

Like with hot lava I`m seething with sex.

I wallow in memories, which have the taste of my pain.

I do not dream of you, be sure, relax.

I just play my role in this wicked game.

My bitter tea is burning the cup,

How can porcelain feel hurt like a girl?

The mask turns to face, disclosing the truth.

I imbibed your essence like a priestess the salt.

I will understand. We have different views.

We have different ways. We have different fates.

But I breathe with you in my solitude.

Your skin keeps as a secret my derma cells.

The rain falls to puddles, freezing and grey.

A part of you lumps somewhere in my throat.

It's morning. It's painful. I know - you`ll leave.

Locking myself, I let you go.

2015 - 2017

The Draughts

I just cannot love. But I try to get closer to draughts.

I think, they will soothe my wounds, they will still my pain.

But my dignity hurts so does my throat.

Leaving thick, bitter semen, you had been everywhere.

I feel like got tight. There is amber gold in my fingers,

It looks like a yellow sapphire in my heart,

That is craving for praise.

It just cannot burn. But it hurts. And as sharp as a razor,

it cuts my tense nerves via the only your gaze.

I die in your feet, for your sake, in your honor.

The lilies bloom with hot wax between legs.

I really want to be the only your woman.

Like a serpent I'm coiling around your chest.

I really love. We are just gifts for each other.

Thank you for the pain, for the roles in the Theatre of Love.

I'm willing to whine like a wolf

As we still are just nothing.

"All things must pass" - whisper I, not believing.

It is in the blood.

2017

1 2 months

January. Coffee. Snow desert.

I leave apart the crumpled sheets.

You cause me pain. You give me, as a present,

The whirl of doubts and the carnal bliss.

February is sparkling with the sunrays.

Hold on, my Lord, I catch your bitter kiss.

The coffee burns my stomach, fills my nighttime.

In front of you, I bend my broken knees.

March is so dirty. Snow `s muddy brown.

The springs are running. We seem to fall apart.

April. Silence. I will not be crying.

You seem to treat me like a bloody slut.

May rejoices with the bright, warm sunlight.

I am so free. I`m filling with delight.

I start my June with a kiss of tender lover.

He is not like you. I leave behind the past.

July. Again. The nights are rather stuffy.

I open windows. I gaze at my blue veins.

August agonizes roughly.

I miss your kiss, your voice. All this in vain.

September. And you suddenly appear,