Our village is too small
I only have grandma
to go and talk to

I massage her shoulders
and she runs her fingers
through my hair, I arch
my back for more, deeper

I stretch my body
until her hand breaks me open
as a woman, who will
break me open as a woman?

The guys who don't see me
and the guys with staring eyes
who think to undress me
have nothing to offer me

I'm looking for one in between
who knows what he wants, and
only has to give
his virginity to me

I don't need a mirror
so beautiful I feel in place
tonight in the concert hall

The unspoken expectation
of the buzz to where
we will be taken

and what else may happen –

the wide neck slides down my
hand lingers there and waits
before stroking my shoulder

in between the heads a fortuitous look
gets stuck on me, his attention
comes under the influence

of my arranging hair
and impatiently shifting position
while the show goes on

On the edge, I'm dripping out
from my jumps in men

their nice words
*** and impatience

Wishing to give each other everything but
not knowing how subsequently

to lead a life of our own
Thinking about that for so long

that it is a problem
insoluble for logic

from which it originated
and elusive

for my unrest that fears
to miss opportunities

and is distracted
by the laughing and dancing

of the passing people who
did not pay attention to me
did not pay attention to mé

on the edge, dripping
from unappreciated beauty

on the edge, dripping
from unappreciated desire

The postcard, growing yellow
for so long

No contact
I don't have an address
to do anything about it

Besides, said in thoughts
my words are silting up
with caution

We only share the wind
that covers us

with sand from South
pollen from East, rain from West
and from North the cold comes

Then I pull a sweater
over my heart, stroke
with my fingers

on my one belly
thinking of your hands

On the way
I ended up in a no man's house
in no-man's time and no man's land

The bed is queen-
size, enough place
for a king, if he

is good for more
than sleeping, than having ***
for more than once

In the empty hotel room
the window is a command
to look outside

Narrow ornamental curtains
always a view, always
being exposed

It is strange, nobody is living
in this beautiful place, here
I would like to live

Squeaking wheels
in the hallway, a clicking door
and it's quiet. What kind

of person may that be?
Shall I start to unpack
my suitcase anyway?

In the pond, I warm myself by the sun
like a prince to be kissed

a girl dances water lilies
around me, her mirror dress
touches me for a moment

Would her lips only bend to me
to lick the salt from my skin
and the skin from my soul

then I would fly magic butterflies
down to her toes, would I anoint
and crown her, wallow in her –

seeds around us, so light
that they don't cast shadows

I stay with you, on a floor mattress
beside your bed, we wish

a future without hurrying anything
maybe test each other

see and hear each other
talk, to know and find

a hold in each other's eyes
what this is about

and whether love can be more
or different, whether our love can be

complete and we may
say the vows, daring

to believe them

Flowers may remain

closed sometimes, for many years –


of awaiting love.