dusk, white dove, dancing above
she blooms, over she looms
generous and greedy for love
chants at you heavenly toons
for my yearning knows no bounds
to conceal how my chest pounds
as our spirits learn to pounce
there and then i announce:
i'll tear myself at odds
i'll let it flood, i'll plead for god
i'll sob and nod as you rob me of pride
i'll let my soul split and divide
dozen pieces you can borrow
and as morrow follows
do not feel like sorrow
at the sight of a raven
it might, heart sore, weep „nevermore“
stare bore, and nothing more
i will, very fast, move on past
wast meadow, soaked in dust
neverending lust, at last, i will yawn
a knight, a pawn, caress me at dawn
