Love me with blood in your heart
and feel me with the soul in your bosom.
Feed me the cheese of your nature,
and beat me with fists of desire.

You smell of hydrogen and barely,
Cherry bombs in tin cans on the
Fourth of July. Witches on the beach.
I once knew a trucker who smelled like

You. Like that. That scent of the holidays.
Can it be that you are related? No.
I did not think so. Can it be that you
are he? No, I did not think so either.

Well then you are simply a phantom
Memory. But phantoms have feelings too.
O, dear love of mine! Love me like that Trucker did,
O! So long ago.