Après
Men are no longer men and women are demons
A lost battle of genders
Society, the winner
We stab our own hearts
With old rusted knives
We drink from full cups of blood
And wash or thoughts in wine
We crawl on our knees
And beg for warm sheets
We rest our heads
On cold aubergine hands
And right down in tears
We drown those few dreams
Love, I wish you’d said “please”.