A question of love and death Love and pain are two sisters, spinsters, living together. Invitee, you are a bachelor, at a loss Whose attention You must return. Pain has shown the embroidery. (Called life) Her hand so nimble upon a piece of cloth! The perverse pleasure of picking at blood! Love has given you a cup of tea. (Fresh from the garden of freedom) With you small talks she has of the day. It is so comfortable, you think, Only a bit dull. “The pleasure is all mine “ You have said on the face of it. At a loss whose attention you must return You returned to death Where there is none.
