Limited Circle

For Franz Kafka

Its not really sex
The highest duty
is to be married, to have children
So we can do this, he said

She isn't really happy
Her greatest hope
is to be married, to have children
But we can do this, she said

She draws back and takes him in her mouth
And he fills her
With moist expectation
He wants to whisper words into her ear
And for a while she believes him

He pops a drug to make him potent
Its the new thing, everyone is doing it
He's hard like a rock, purplish veins
Tracing the shaft of his cock

To be married, to have children
The highest duty of all

She likes it when he holds her rougly
And when he reciprocates
Paying just attention to her sex
but not her body

There is nothing new under the sun
Nothing to distract
But he looks up to the sky
As his muscles contract

And he becomes a part of the world of ghosts
the little death
smile

She
wipes her mouth
and smiles
Pearls shining on her skin
traces
of him
and lies back
on silken sheets
and thinks of him
and love

two years, ten years
he passes by the brothel
as though past the house
of a beloved