Among the trees holding her out my hands
“What about a walk?”
I avoid the sharp splinters of her sweet shattered gaze
Step by step into the labyrinths of doubt
Every shelter – a trap
While distresses I witness – the twilight of my heart
You spread around drops of light
Unaware of the rustle of invisible syllables:
“You will not get out of eternal peace!”
And the virgin blade kisses, freeing your white throat
No pain, I’m quite sure
She feels no pain – the voice still throbs:
“Each man kills the thing he loves!”