Words
Are
Just women
For you,
With whom you live your night symphonies.
Sometimes a woman-like word
At dinner,
Sometimes several women-like words
At a late night hour.

You embrace those women's waist
And they gurgle.
Consumed leisure – beyond them,
Maybe more,
The cruelty of a kiss-like word.
The woman-like word wearing pointed high-heels
Seems to be your dearest one.

I am
A woman-like word, too,
Among other women-like words.
The letters building me up
Are bodies of hot ink
On the string of sensations.
When you wander me with your fantasies
Those letter-made bones
Hurt me.

My angel core
Melts away
Little by little.