The Desert of the Flesh

 It is called love,
but it is a desert of the flesh;
a game of tears – souls – verity – happiness
 with innocence.

Screaming reflections of bodies outlined in the dark
– a flickering dream –
pain is gushing out 
with life.

Stone to stone,
it is the soul's end:
in a single yank,
into a fumbling craziness –
the soul fills with emptiness.

And the desert of the flesh
full of despair,
temptation – love,
which, when expelled from the mind,
means nought.

The poetry of words has turned into stone;
when it's over with the soul,
the flesh becomes all.

There is a war raging
in the heart –
and I cry out: Amen!;
and I cry out: Peace!

The Desert of the Flesh © Ladanseuse
Transl. "Poušť těl", written in 2000, edited in 2021