above a round table
A bottle of whiskey awaits ………
At the other side of the room,
he sits in front of her naked body
He spins his poems on her body as a prophet, yet to be sent.
He writes a word and then he worships at her altar,
An angel came to him to inspire him to write by her Orgasmic juice .
She stares, her pupil only moves when she is sob.
The room crowded with ideas.
Her body was crowded with the fleeing lines of the poet,
The lines fled the crowds of cities towards the prosperity of her planet .
Then she suddenly uttered:
Would you read to me the Mother’s novel of Maxim Gorky?
Wait don’t read it .. I will sing for you
And she started whispering :
( Once was a girl , She has twelve dreams.)
Then she cried
He was throwing kisses on her body
And the radio announces the start of ” Umm Kulthum’s ” party , Then there was a little mouse trying to open the window to enjoy the warmth of the room.
She Squatted down and said:
swaddle me ..
He hugged her in his arms .
She left him and stood in front of a broken mirror in the corner of the room .
She looked in the mirror :
There are cracks scattered inside the face,
Folds like a groove filled with pouring water ..
I used to own those boobs before , which Prominent as the Alps and now looking for someone to carry them after the ruin.
She grabbed his lipstick and broke it.
She took off her bra .
She opened the window and sat to staring at a spider spinning his home.
She didn’t care about the phone bell that would tell her about her son’s death.
She pulled the poet from his hand and whispered:
It is a spider spinning its home like a silk swish.
There is a sound:
Baby, wake up , It looks like you drank whiskey last night.
She woke up and said:
Did I talk in my sleep?
He attached her to his chest and said:
Nothing but silk swish .
She whispered again :
“I don’t have to drink a lot of whiskey anymore.”
Before she stretched her body in his chest, she saw on the window a spider spinning his home .
She smiled and slept to complete the rest of the text in another dream.