With flushes of a springtime burn we sat
together on the beach, and I remember that
my little sister wore a fancy hat

Her breast stripped half, for feeding, she
intensely watched the baby on her knee
and with a wink she shared this love with me

She added: being faithful is a free choice

Was this some kind of spoiler
telling love is less than pleasure?
I hardly could believe her

and quickly looked at her husband for a clue
but having no experience, a good thing too
I did not dare to ask: is it true?

Can being faithful really always be a free choice?

I saw the puppies run around and play
saw castle walls, been built and washed away
And red briefs were a flapping flag on top of the day

I lay and thought about what she
had said, and asked myself when would it be
the end of love, inevitably

if being faithful is an option and a free choice

I saw relationships as quite a safe adventure
of looking for a sort of structure
of moving with each other, at the wheel together

but every kiss of love for its eternity
sets out to travel, wants to fly and easily
seduces someone else, occasionally

for being faithful always is a free choice