November

You're tossing me over

Like a coin on your palm

I'm shivering when you crush

Into my tiny tight parts

Like a star into its adjacent counterpart

I'm flapping in the sheets

Like a yellow, brown, red and pink leave

 Staining our pillows

 With the autumn's gloomy beauty

I'm averting my eyes

From the fog outside

We're dancing

Singing

Cooking up a storm

The incense is smouldering

Firing the clouds of feverish passion

I'm forcing out the army of sperm

 From the air-freshening atomizer

Droplets of which

Are sparkling our blotchy skin

Wonderful smell evaporates

From rubbing our soles soaked wet

With the early rain of November

No strain is put on our embrace...

And then blank...

The captain rang the bell

And the church's roof is pumping

Mass and prayer and benediction

From the hose of devotion

And religious commotion

I'm sitting on my chair

Yet again, one more pain

Racking my brain

Where will I end?

Fiddling around restlessly

Groping for sophisticated thoughts

 Making a philosophical circle aroused

Making them come with a vengeance

Into my silent emptiness

 

Tap tap tap

My fingers are having sexual intercourse

With letters jumping bouncing

Generating hypotheses

Analyses

 French irregular borrowings

 My eyes are burning

Your name on my grave

 

Tap tap tap

My fingers are having a break

Sliding into my knickers as to...

Let off steam

Vent my anxiousness

I'm sitting on my chair

Licking tomato juice off my nails

Yet gain, one more pain

When will this end?