open heart surgery

a cold body , a cold flesh that used to be caressed and warmed and shaded , protected

laying on a hard stainless still plaque, that same body , which layed naked in my bare hands on those sheets , on those sheets of fire and tear , those sheets that had these railways on it , these lines that never where carefully folded , these lines your fingers grasped on , these hands , these warm hands , used to draw our sinful tracks  on my back , use to pierce through endless nights my flesh , these lips , these rose lips , are now locked ,  these lips , used to mesmerise tenderly , soft , words , dancing the light of the moon on them ...  this same face , this face , could fit a dozen books of orgasms, so lyrical , so poetical almost devoting , so mystically manipulating .... this body laying before my eyes , to this body i gave oath protecting , caressing with my own existence is now needless to be protected , needless of love ... needless ........ and it hurts ... this vulnerable soul , now laying here , this raped soul , that had given me a vaulted sky of feelings , tears fearless nights , is now ... 

dead . 

dissected with a Y on her chest , instead of the lines mesmerising the countless encounters of our flesh and soul ... 

covered  with blood instead of these pure drops of turmoil and mist provoking each and every entrance... 

death,  a revelation, and a curse ... a stain and dissection on my own needless heart beat ...

written for K.