If only I had the power and poise of a ringmaster
I would create a circus to amuse you,
of daredevil stunts and exotic pleasures.
Already I have flipped and dove
like an acrobat
for you.
Flying into thin air
and falling into the net
of nothing.
I have performed for you
my titillating burlesque show.
I have given you too many sweets.
But I have not lead you
inside the lion’s den,
nor fed you to the hungry tigers.

You are a strange one, my love.
Not made of soft earth like me,
but of fire,
and the wind
that feeds it.

Your mother ran out of milk
while you were still suckling.
Lack became your preferred feast.
Now you crave the torment
of a dry breast,
a woman who gives nothing.

If only
I could give you that!
Maybe someday, someday
I will stop loving you

and seduce…