Mama
what I tell you
what I don't tell anyone else

what has happened
what cannot be explained
what we better leave as it is

I have no idea
how it can be otherwise
whether it should be otherwise

mama
we're having a good time
we can talk, talk

about something else
polish our words
let them glide lightly

along the scraping walls
around the discomfort
listening half

inventing the rest ourselves
then it will go
isn't that how it goes?

Those secrets, mama
we don't need to know them
out loud, you know

I miss the long walks
the long evenings together
the boredom of before