The first time you
made love you
wanted to die,
spirit rising,
a search party
harbouring weaknesses.

Tempt the essential,
the hell of a
dark grove.
Go off, an exit disturbed,
a little lonely,
out of place.
Dense, your cry,
back up to the light,
correspond to the
legends of goodness,
a mournful way of life,
no luck, no quiet attention.