λογικέψου

you are the one

to whom i offer 

the ultimate power

and the absolute satisfaction

to reflect my ego

sunset

dust all over

my breath fogging the window

-meaning your eyes-

what i see there, 

a blurred nasty figure

taking off my lace underwear

cleaning up the cornea

carefully:

no streaks left,

observing my figure in the dark

-meaning your thoughts-

as a part of the external frame

making my self critique

totally committed to my awareness

that,

this game is

exclusively mine

but,  awaits to be revealed

-meaning spoken-

you, so broken and discouraged 

i don’t even dare

to stand in front of you as the real me

staying hidden 

trying to convince my deeper lust

that you are just another

straight white line

-meaning my stuff hidden in my

silver purse-

when you are a curve

the most scaring/scared curve at the same time

with this yellow colour of 

despair and desperation

which i admit i wanna lick

 but i respect you more

than i want to seduce you

dragging you in my existential trap

feeding you my chemistry

fully decided for what i am,

a jell of acceptance and care

to soften your skin,

relaxing your muscles,

washing away your messed-up thoughts

combined with 

the affection of the hot water

on your most private moments

during  shower, before sleep

-meaning probably,

death.