I Shall Be a Flower 20: A Samaritan Woman

I wonder why she’s become a Samaritan woman.
The man sitting by her is her husband.
She doesn’t seem to have gone through many men.
Well, nobody knows, though.
Just like a doe wandering about in the mountains looking for clear water,
she might have been trying to find a man who can cool down her burning heart.
That’s why she comes in here every Sunday
And throws up sizzling eyes to Jesus on the cross,
Like a woman hanging around the well,
Even though her husband has been with her all the time.
However, how Jesus without body can take woman’s volcano?
If she is a Samaritan woman, I would be Jesus.
I should become her Savior who provides never-dried spring water.
If I had a power like that of Jesus,
I would fall to Satan’s temptation that let me make a bread out of stone.
Since it looks like I don’t have that kind of charisma,
It would be just a passing wind.
I hope not.

I Shall Be a Flower 19: Dulcinea

Perhaps I am just another Don Quixote.
Then, most likely, that butterfly-like flower,
Beating the air with its awkward wings,
Hovering around over me, is another Dulcinea?
Even with her punctured stocking,
She is just a beautiful princess to me.
She may be a queen under a spell,
Whom I have to save. I shouldn’t let her
Come near me, but should just let her scent
Graze my nose, so that I could save her
Or not from the witch through blood battle.
No, I am not Don Quixote,
Then she is not Dulcinea.
She, hiding her cruel sexual desire
Behind the thick mask called faith,
Is just one of women strewn
All over this world.
Well, I am the Excalibur
That could pierce her impenetrable mask,
Which is my fantasy.
Just like this, she is still my Dulcinea.