Dancing to the old gramophone, is Caterina.
It harmonizes a tune of violas and pianos,
Guitars, bass and percussion.
Her mind stirs, and her senses warm;
Her cheeks rosy, and her shoulders bare;
Her belly pale, and her breasts golden;
Her scent sweet, and her skin aglow.
Caterina dances, her beauty enchanting.
From the gush of music to her ears,
A man sings his song of entrancement.
From man to woman, Caterina hearkens:
‘Of her: a beautiful woman so rare,
Her charms so exquisite. To reach for a touch, I dare.
I feel her body tremble, and her lips I see quiver.
The resplendence of her – like a sparkle, then a shimmer.’
Caterina blushes, her face filled with crimson,
Ceasing the gramophone, the room fills with silence.
To a table she lightly steps, and in front, she stands.
Her body shivers, she licks her lips.
She balls her fists, and reopens them again.
She pats her belly, and runs her hand,
Over her legs, and over her neck.
Flies, she does, to a wall.
And pulls so violently a drawer,
From a dresser, and out spills letters,
Gathering them up close to her bosom,
Letting them fall to her lap.
Opens one up and reads it aloud:
‘My dear, so lovely you are,
Although you are so very far.
I long for the touch of your skin,
Of searing warmth; of kisses deep,
And soft breaths, in lust we reap,
When fingers caress, as we play in sin.’
With these few words, Caterina’s eyes went wide.
For the letter was not finished, it gently rolled off,
Like a final breath, her hand to the floor.
And for that, dear Caterina leaned back, and sat,
Sighed a deep sigh and went to play.
Lost in lust and selfish pleasure,
Her fingers between her legs, and then she groaned.
Eyes closed and mouth agape.
Of memories, sick and loud,
Erupting from her mind, and every pore.
Sin and grief, anguish and self-pity,
Strangles her with greedy contempt,
And Caterina accepts it all yet again.
She twisted in convulsions after a time,
And passed into a sleep, sighing softly.
Her lips slightly parted, and her head nodded
Off to her shoulder and of her right hand,
Went to her right leg and laid there, overturned.
Caterina sat against the wall,
Asleep in the summer heat, without a murmur.
For she knew not who peered at her from a window.