My latest breath
Hangs loose
On a webstring
About to snap
And I pant
While you whisper
“Mon Amour,
Ma Cherie”
Into my
Hair
As I wonder what it means
Your fingers
Close round
My neck
And that must
Have been
The gasoline
That fueled
My heartbeat
Shooting
Up with
The stars we
Danced
With
I soared
With you
Bodies intertwined
Pleasure
Spasm-ing
My spine
Soon my eyes glazed over
You
Oh you…
Confuse me more
In this foreign tongue
Now you kiss me,
Spilling sweet Paris
Onto my tongue
I let out
“Je meur!”
On a breath
And faded out
But I heard,
As
Seconds passed…
Her name
On your lips,
Again
And that…
That
Was
La petite mort
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