I give up posing and addressing
the wrong muses

said the king

But how -
how on earth should we proceed?

asks the Consultant exhausted

begin, the king begins to speak,
begin to bleed what you are feeling
and they will see

but my king, my-

Bring it on, my friend!* Assures the king,
makes him stand up,
start,

and begin with his tale
as if it was also theirs

and as the mighty audience glares at him
he feels a heavy hand
that seeks his shoulder

looks at his king, his friend, remembers
how the two got older

how in the milky light of dawn their faces
have grown and changed
and still have kept their basis

behind some shades and shapes
and shadows of the times -

He looks up now, relieved,
he gazes at his king and speaks
free now

and seeks no more for words
but finds.