High Heels

High heels

At Cemetery

among tombs and strange people

A widow so sad

At least she had a moment

One tear to share for the dead

At  Restaurant

you could see two long legs

on her black high heels

as a good living widow must be

At house

alone, the sun going down

a widow not so sad

waiting for whispers and rides

as night falls

while the dawn comes!

and morning rises!

her curled hair wraps other’s face

and all is allowed to get in

into those chastes thighs and legs

the hot breath, the caresses … the kisses

And finally!

in a frenzy’s moment

she cast out His photo

breakable memories  on the floor

One more spasm!

And He, as a good dead man has to be

remained  dead

among tombs and strange people