Delicious Corpse

 
I was bold enough
to give my contempt to the occasion.
There's a call grabbing attention
I hate any love
which means servitude,
that is in a programming grid,
announcing dates and times
as criminal sentences.

I undo the ties
and the bright smiles of commitment,
and the equipment that fits
like a clown costume;
I look like a clown,
and I resent the song
but I love dancing
which leads straight to the bed,
where laughter is always welcome.

Role invitations appear
like death sentences by the committee,
and the snacks served,
with its cyanide seasonings,
to doctors who want to suffocate themselves
with such paradisiacal aphrodisiacs.

I'm pleased to have been here
for a long enough time
to be able to leave
and I don't need to be shown the door
with your kindness and come back often.
In retreat, there is no sex
except for the perfunctory flesh,
no offering of love:
The sealed and calm will to seek,
adopt the model posture
and believe it in appearances,
raise glasses and sip...

There is no love that offers victories
but not unmaking the beds
there is time left behind.
In all my dealings with this,
I tried, then ran away,
Sometimes I didn't run away alone.

There is no love that offers victories
but it can undo many beds.