If I were the death; Who dances, cries and changes,
I would search the memory of time for your name.
I would leave the harvest to smell your perfume,
And i would ride indecently until your encounter.
If I were the death that screams and howls,
I would tear my throat out crying for you.
I would lick your footprints, always longing for you;
Inebriated with greed for plucking your flesh.
If I were the death that awaits stubborn,
I would count every sigh while I wait,
It would open the heavens for an aeon
Waiting gracious that you fall in love with me.
If I were death naked and eternal;
I would clothe my filthy bones with gallant stars,
And bathe my throne in dreams of silver,
Celebrating that soon your skin will be mine.
If I were death; Astute, swift and sure,
Would leave the dead, embrace life,
It would arrive right to your lips ...
I would die knowing about you, being defeated.
Original text and photo by Michel Camacaro 2017
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