I'm a wasp for you
wandering over your withered flowers
wanting them to spring.
The everlasting white showering your petals
I want to wash with the dew on my wings
your stamen
I would even want to lick and eat.
I'm a werewolf for you
howling to your silhouette, watching it being free
with yellowish eyes, like the feathers of a warbler
hoping you would satisfy my hunger and wicked instincts.
I would face destiny and doom
only desiring to wake up and dry
the wail of you waning moons.
[...I don't mind not recognizing myself in the mirror.]
May I have been the worst, the most wasteful wight who ever
touched
your happiness.
May I be.
When the lights go out We
You and Me
will cease being beings
to be whatever we want to be.
