Time's up, your hands
He held my palm gingerly.
On my lips,
I press your red lips gently and timidly.
A flash of sparks,
Lightning bursts from the calyx;
Those two lips of yours that make me ecstasy,
It no longer belongs to oneself;
As long as you live,
You can no longer ignore me.
Those two charming cherry lips,
Already irrevocably attracted to me;
Sooner or later one day,
They will find a permanent home.
Excerpted from Strom, Germany