She tears my heart
then licks my wounds
and disappears
Her ways of love
are cunning
Her moments over
Her tears are fleeting
Her smile bleeds me
And I beg her
not to stop
We are of an ancient tribe
We have survived eons in the sun
Sweating
as we search for water
in the prickly bush
Let us not destroy each other now, my love
God would not be pleased
He has been watching us
We are his pets
and he plans
more pets
from us
We carry sticks
to walk upright
my love
Let us not turn them on each other
in the madness
of the heat
Together
we shall find this prickly bush
and though we must evade its thorns
we shall dine on nectar
and sweet clear flesh
and we will then be sticky
from the sugars
that
drip
down
Tiny creatures
gather by our toes
and they too
shall feast
for our love
feeds on love
and the earth
shall one day
again
be full