You and I are engrossed in dance.....
Soon the music has sunk into silence......
With the theatrical, but sensual gloss,
you, led by me, soar......


Like a sweet drunk cherry,
you are spinning in the warmth of my hands
and words about desires are unnecessary
in a whirlwind of 'growing agony'......


Walking through the front door in my brain, I
did not get tired of the idea of defiantly beckoning:
to remove a layer of chocolate from your silk
and to taste it with mighty wine...


We don’t hear anything but ourselves---
in two hearts we are given the rhythm.....
From the fact that we are intermittently breathing, the
blood will still become stronger.....


Hastily leaving a picture of
entertaining and idle arts
and.....


.....in the end,
turning on our backs,
we both knew this taste.....