Can you tell me that
we are in bed
rebelling
against social injustice,
and my hands for sure
they would believe you,
feeling fair
and equitable with each
corner of pleasures
of the meat.
Could you say
let it be climax
looks like tremors
of the earth when it erupts,
by firm steps
and the harangues that they recite
women who defend life,
the dignity.
It is only fair that we
we are loving today,
just seventy years ago
we were forbidden
name the pleasure.
And it makes at least a hundred,
hysterical,
we lined up to try
Charcot's new experiment.
It's okay
that we use
the moans
like ours
favorite nuclear weapon.
That's what I used to tell you.
Maybe,
shortly before
catch
the fire of kisses,
and all that ritual,
subversive
rebel
and exquisite,
where they are
the bodies
that before could not be touched.
And it is that we can
vanish
now
the reasons,
(those absurd justifications
that nobody needs to live)
words,
but never
(you tell me)
we can
vanish
the rebellion
or the outbreak of desire.