I thought I could
just this one time
in my very innocent life
be entirely fine
with giving what is mine
for a tiny moment.
But instead my heart questions
a million things in my mind
and it becomes hard to find
what I need inside
to be bitterly kind
in this confusing time
where no clear light will shine.
And to the eyes looking back
with the cheek against my thigh
in the aftershock I sigh
relieved of my trapped lie;
now free with the tears I cry
invisible to your eye.
I cannot question Why;
and What begins to deny
that which How already let die:
I’m my own mirror of solitude.
The emptiness I feel
is the space where you do not go.
And slowly, I begin to know
sooner or later this will show.