IF I AM NOT HER SERVANT

You do not visit me

The kingdom is overturned

The woman is dead

Her palace burned

Her breasts are nailed

to a bulletin board

In her cunt

a cigar is stored

I can’t believe

I stare and mumble

Beauty in such disarray

Love so humble

O rise up from

the general massacre

Resume her radiant form

and be her

From whispering hearts

gather her cancelled graces

from our corpulence

her crystal spaces

Anxious desire

let her light caress

and music revive

in the creases of her dress

May I serve her

both sides of the grave

If I am not her servant

I will be another’s slave

Glory and glory to her

who gives birth to god

who bends down over

the world’s huge wound

My love my love

initiate her reign

Come back to me

Come back to me again