Giovanni Malito
Prospect Cemetry
Blades of grass knifed our bodies
and cicadas screeched into our ears.
You trembled under a tremoring me —
it was too creepy, blasphemous even
that we should have been there, like that.
At first. I was undaunted and strong.
my strength originating from my groin.
I thrust and I tore but you struggled
feebly, your cries inaudible
like those of the corpse beneath us.
I heard nothing and concentrated
on metaphor, lilac and your scented skin,
until you began to suck air, so violently
I could not breathe. I had to stop.
We sighed in relief and quickly climbed
over the wall, each of us silent
until now.
Page(s) 13
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