Love Snores

6 a.m.
and we finally fall asleep
into each other arms and
sexual organs
it is such a combination of
mighty fulfillness
that we dive into deep
unawareness
of what's crawling
behind
around
or under
it is a level
of such tremendous satisfaction
that we loose ourselfs
in the meaning of perception
time
love
says
boiles everything inside this sheets
melts the wounds of two persons who no longer
seem to swallow with hesitation.
she wears high heels
and he wears a tie
long enough tie to hang two necks
heels high enough to support four feet
we bump it all up
the sheets
the glasses
the cigarette boxes
the clothes
the ashes
the screams
the moans
the blood
we're tigers and lions
but we do not bite
we do not play with the hard
solid fatal bullet in the gun
we keep it rolling
and going
until we've came on a rush
rouged
blushed of peel
as the whole city burned itself in
destruction
the wreckage, he said, is the reflection of our alienated love
and sexual tension
we're tigers, we're animals,
he said
and yes
we were all of that
so we lighted cigarettes
and drank shitty whisky
what didn't matter at all
cause we had ourselfs to crawl into
to pour into each other mouths
and we did
not a convencional kind of love,
ya know,
cause he wouldn't buy me roses
he would steal them from gardens
and say "I'm a good neighbour"
and he wouldn't take me caviar
to bed
but instead he appeared with nice hot bread covered with italian cheese on it
and I would eat it all up until the last piece
and we would smoke
and mess the sheets and the floor
with shoots of his white mournfoul love
you know what I mean
we were tigers
and we didn't watch TV
we had sweet music
and mouths that talked
like nobody elses
but that is not the real expression of love
if loved had a voice
it would be a snore...
I guess I could explain this...
...
but you know what I mean