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On a Night as Warm as Sin

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Not now.

I wish you were here

to see this look of mine

the cruel one, ferocious

the look of a man.

Don’t look at me now,

Esmeralda.

Not when tears

of deprivation, of perversion

are clouding my own life.

Cursed, infernal creature

witch and sweet girl,

in what craft, in what spell

did you drag me?

Believing me stone,

your eyes have provoked me,

the bitter scent of your hair

your throat, your hands

it persecutes me, acre

like the smoke of a fire

in my veins

that doesn’t want to stop.

My warm, passionate

tender and feral

Esmeralda

how far can you corrupt

the nature of a man

who comes to deny himself?

How can a priest

invoke God

when God’s image

is blurred by your face?

I feel my heart beating,

Esmeralda.

Can you feel it?

I hate hearing myself say

just once in my life

the word ‘love’.

You’re passion, wine

blending with holy water.

Love your priest,

look at my eyes,

fixed, captured

by those legs you can’t stop

moving.

Break this spell,

give yourself away,

and give me some peace,

the rest from grief

where you threw me.

My lascivious, cruel

delicious, brutal

angelic and atrocious

Esmeralda.