by Vera Pavlova
Loneliness is a sexually
I let you be; let me be, please.
Let’s have a quiet moment
chatting about this and that,
leaving some things unsaid,
let’s have a hug and realize:
no cure for the lonely.
If there is something to desire,
there will be something to regret.
If there is something to regret,
there will be something to recall.
If there is something to recall,
there was nothing to regret.
If there was nothing to regret,
there was nothing to desire.
Let us touch each other
while we still have hands,
palms, forearms, elbows…
Let us love each other for misery,
torture each other, torment,
to remember better,
to part with less pain.
Eternalize me just a bit:
take some snow and sculpt me in it,
with your warm and bare palm
polish me until I shine.
When I am in your arms, you think: “She’s mine, without fail.”
But I will shed my body like a saurian tail,
and you will have to search the starry skies
for what you hoped to find between my thighs.