Scent of Love
It is raining a small rain
A gentle rain over all the world
Gentle like that love which is so hard
to sustain or to receive or to reciprocate
Because men are greedy: They bite and tear
You from the
mountains I from the plains
I from the city You from the forest
I a hunter And you a deer
The city is full of the smell of my dear today
The musk mingles with the rain
Its scent spreads
This morning I lie in bed dreaming of you
I was to be hunter but I'm an inert deer
Sensing danger you wait
And I sense danger with you
Why is the world so crazed for venison?
I wonder at a living creature
Who must so eat a living creature!
And suddenly the wounded doe dies for you
She has dragged herself to you to die before you
Did she not stay one night inert
When you slew her in bed
Just as tonight I wish to slay you?
Does not our passion only bring suffering
And do we all not die daily a little
Satisfying our longings?
Play go play though your scent drives me wild
And I have myself become wild in my love for a wild thing
Slay or be slain
And your hand will not be cleansed of blood ever again
The pain the pain of love is everywhere
And the scent of this musk cannot be washed even in a rain.
5.30 pm, 8 July 00
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