The Student

A student made of snow
A soft moon with dark shaded eyes
Lays in a cyber elastic negligee
At the Mies chaise lounge

She asks me about the champagne picnic
Near Baku
Would we meet
Or would we miss again

Or should she come to Dagestan
Or better to Derbent
Where she was chained once before
To the lion beasts at the city walls

And a loud feast began
And 1001 men screaming for life
Chanting and beating
For their dream of falling in her thighs

To taste her holy source
Of joy and wild desire
Like the city of New York
Mirrored in a gem of fire

 

Tbilisi, 03.05.2020