Awake in the night
and who to call?
The one owl
watches my soul.

It knows silence
Like I know words
it knows smiling
humouring my slurs

Shoo it off I may
With my five fingertips
A stretched hand
once open, now stands.

Denial is funny
the river that never lies
slowly eroding, quietly
painfully clarifies.

Lifetimes and lifetimes
the truth floats by
caressing that simple answer
over the lids of my eyes.

Open them I mustn't
refusing so much to see
Once the water rushes in
  there will be nothing left of me.