Midsummer desert dream

Midsummer desert dream
(poem)

 

The only man who ever said to me “You’re beautiful”

saw me as a slut with unexplored potential.

I went with him of course; even ugly women

yearn to be told they are beautiful,

even as they pretend to struggle for truth, justice & other Gods.

 

He saw a genuine slut in me, good for instruction

he asked me with much tact and grace: May I hurt you?

I said Yes

You’re so beautiful with all of these bruises!

May I cut a finger from your right hand?

I told myself: a finger is not a big deal, I will quickly learn to manage with only four

I agreed, and he exclaimed: you’re unbelievably beautiful with this generosity of yours

and he cut my finger

I thanked him with a gnash
May I chop your hips? Of course

The pain, he said, made me more and more beautiful and attractive

May I take out one of your eyes?

I hesitated a bit, I was not concerned about my eyesight, but I feared that the mutilation would make me ugly
but what are two superb eyes, two perfect hands, the most sensual carnation, the finest skin good for

in a world wherein nobody sees you and tells you: you’re beautiful?
He saw me

I could have listened to him breathing even with a single ear

I could have caressed his tensed temples with only one hand

I could have sniffed his smell of animal in heat with a single nostril

 

He was determined to take his trophy out of me

I consented to everything

I let him haggle my tights, my womb, my arms

while doing these he never ceased telling me how beautiful I was

The blood fits you so well, my slut!

May I cut your heart in two pieces?

He asked me this with the smoothest and warmest voice like a true gentleman

I said yes

Without any shade of regret

He went away

And I remained with only one half of my heart

With a life split in two pieces

But this is not the worst
What I hoped for was that he would have killed me

That’s the truth

I don’t care about the wounds

They will heal
The worst thing is that I should return to a place

Filled up with wonderful, well behaved men,

Who think only in the highest respect about me

Men that would never hurt me, not even with a gun pointed at their heads

Men descended from contemporary fairy tales

That never told me and will never tell me

You are beautiful