She would hank up on my left side
Listening to my breathing
Like You, she loved to grabble
To take care of my health, You're cared about it too
Unlike You, she’s got an apprehension of old science fiction movies
And she often stared at me while I was dozing or watching a film.
Jokingly, I would draw her attention:
- Look! Advertising for "Elvita cakes"!
We were laughing.

I understood  that stare.
Because of You.
While we were walking in the winter, you wanted  to be on my right side
And You  would  let me slip my hand into the pocket of your coat.
I'd watched you tread, with rosy cheeks
Hair pulled into a bun
I would stare.


You would ask - what ?!
Nothing, I would answer.
(your smile, you fool)

In the first months we photographed ourselves
With a cheap film camera
And photos were in color
On photos, You turn out magically.


I brought along the album with these photos of you
While I train traveled in dawn, for the semester verification.
I stared, while the coupe was empty.
In the city I bumped into a former, older, more experienced colleague
We both worked in a bookstore and his father teached literature.
I told him about the new poems, the new job after old bookstore and that I'm in a relationship.
I showed him your photo, the most beautiful one.
He froze.
Then he said with a smile:
You are going to be so ****** up when this relationship ends ...so ****** up.
And he, as always, was right.
I was *******.

I didn’t tell you about the album and the train
I let you speak about musicians
You were not pleased because I didn’t understood the song of Leonard Cohen completely
And I wasn’t pleased not knowing for the comicbook which will essentially explain the two of us.

You become cold, distant.
You left  in February, after the literary evening
You were a bit surprised that I gave You a book, gift with a dedication
Although I was (un) consciously conscious of what awaits for me soon.

I didn’t  complicate.
I got up, kissed You on the forehead, and I went towards the station and to take a bottle of beer.
Where are you going, You asked. Pulled me by the sleeve. Tightened me.
We struggled for a few seconds. Stopped.
You wanted to see me off, to see how the train departs slowly, leaving
How train wagon becomes a point in the distance  that disappears in the fog.
Of course, it was your way.

Now we both have a cult episode of Dylan Dog
Comicbook called " The Long Goodbye "
There is also a scene at the train station
And I finally realized Leonard
After the first empty bottle.

Sunday morning in 2016.
You are turning 36.
You hear the sound of the digital blood pressure control device.
Mother, from the next room.
Picking up your strenght, standing up, taking the garbage bags out.
Then you are visiting your father, he's dying in the hospital.
You see that thing and the urin bag filled with urin and blood in it.
Infection, they say. It happens.
You are feeding him.
He is asking questions to you.
«What happened to me?»
«Did those years past so fast»?

«Life. That happened to you. They past quickly.»
You talk with him, leaving, saying goodbye.
Then you do the laundry, take a bath, buy some groceries.
In the evening, your autotherapy is writing
Or watching movies from your childhood.

Maybe you shall go out with your friend to visit a bar.
His father died a couple months ago.
Both of you are talking about movies too.
You are saying:

«You see, most of our childhood heroes came back
Reason was mostly money
But in averige or bad movies, not like before.
Superman became father in 2006. version
Batman became father in a comicbook and in a cartoon.
Indiana Jones became father
Even Han Solo had a son.
But what happened with us and the other people?
Maybe we were not mature enough, not ready, we did not met a right person
There was allways a question of money and compromises
Now it's a question of existence.
And we are still idealists.
Geeks a bit, too.
Perhaps this country does not deserve mine, or your child?»

He agreed
And ordered the third beer.
I did not.
I knew that tomorrow is Monday and I got work to do
And that the game went in the other direction
Long time ago.

Show me the secrets in the shadowy places that good boys and girls  should never see; like rock'n'roll rumbling in a dingy divebar-backroom, or lovers in a rain soaked alley.

Show me the secrets in the hidden places that only the lonely children can see: the shoe box treasure chests of broken shiny things, bric-a-brac in old tin cans, a cobweb covered crawlspace comicbook, or a lost love's lost love notes never sent and never seen.

Show me the secrets in the wilderness gardens that only the dreamers may dare to see: Dandelion promenades of pine needles paved over rotten leaves and treebark leading away to toadstool terraces among orchards of fiddlehead ferns and ghost pipes ascending to trumpet the day.

Show me the secrets hidden behind curtains that spirits and mediums only should see: the souls untethered and howling damnation at their veiled purgation in a dustless dimension forever unheard.