A tree

Be..

Be a dangerous woman

So that I’ll be sure, when I embrace you..

That you are not a tree’s remains…

Speak something..

Say something..

Sing, cry, live, die…

So that they never say about me..

That my lover.. Was a tree

Be the venom… and be the viper

Be the magic.. And be the magicians

Wind around me…

So that I can feel the warmth of the flesh and the fragrance of the skin…

So that I’ll be sure, my lady,

That your branches are not wood

That your roots are not firewood..

Stream in sweat..

Die drowning…

So that they never tell of me..

That I used to flirt with a tree…

Be a stallion, my lady..

Be a cutting sword

Be a tomb..

Be a death…

Be an insatiable lip..

Be an african summer..

Be a stinging field of spices…

Be the amazing pain…

Indeed, I become a god when I am in pain…

Sing, cry, live, die…

So that they never tell of me..

I used to embrace a tree

Be a woman, my lady,

Who grinds in her breasts meteors

Be a thunder..

Be a lightning..

Be a refusal..

Be an anger..

Let your hair fall onto me..

Gold over gold…

Let your body ,on my bed,…

Write poetry..

Write litterature..

Let your breast, on my bed…

Dig its own tomb…

Be a human my lady..

Be the land, be the fruit

So that they never tell of me..

That I used to make love to a tree