You came to me relinquishing a mad soul
and that makes you an addict to madness.
The physical distances appears like brown thorns on my back,
baby, even after you I still climb on to my bed as an empty species.
You get your orgasms, you curve your demons and you take your hands from the horizons.
These inhumanities always come like migratory clouds.
I still remember the days we learned each other,
I still remember the bloods you showed me for my poetries
and strangely I still remember how you could strangle black worms with the tip of your fingers.
I guess there’s a difference between us…
I showed you my demons without any pretentions and you showed yours accidentally,
like paper cuts.
And no matter what I will always remember you for your proportionate tits, your big brown eyes,
your moist smiles,
but most importantly for your soggy spine.

…………………………………………………………….

Photograph: Carol Bove.