At home, we each have our cell
our monastic life dedicated
to words and deeds
My words, his deeds

Walks after work
turning on each other's axis
like spiral trees on the edge
of an abyss

Practical issues
we discuss, the undiscussable
I write down in precise sentences
No endless talk

certainly not about myself
And in my struggle
to be seen
as I am

never using improper
words as a weapon
rather encouraging him
to be his best self

You turned down my book,

so I'll have it published, as --


a detour to you.

Hey, he looks past me,

completely preoccupied --


with my arrival.

Living simple, no

belongings, just floating on --


a plank in the sea.

It's your eyes
.. but even more
it's your sleeping body
.. against my chest or my back
it's the very beauty
.. of your desire
.. when you get up
it's your smell
.. that almost isn't there
.. and most of all
it's your hands
.. that take care of me
.. in between making me
.. inconspicuously feel
.. under my clothes
.. that it is true

Such beautiful eyes

my teacher has, I use them --


to look at myself.

I do need to talk

about my grief, he thinks that --


this would be unwise.

The church draws the square

into sleep, offers comfort --


to homeless people.

Let me my habits
Let me, let me inside
Give me a shelter
Give me a kiss

... Take me
... Protect me
... Give me your magic
... Give me what I need

Then I'll give you my blood
I will pump it outwards
I will blood on your belly
I will blood in your mouth

... Danger is everywhere
... just a blow away
... Love is everywhere
... just a kiss away

Happiness is elusive
The pie turns around
Happiness is elusively
nearby

... Let me bleed
... in your storm
... Let me bleed
... in your heart

Come on, says Adam,

the apple has been eaten --


and now we'll move on.

It happened to her:

Eva is bitter, it is --


simply not her fault.

In the amusement park, we kiss
a movie of love and music
Words are unsweetened and pure
An eyebrow raised
for a moment says it all

A ******* roller skates
between the houses of cards
and sand castles gets priority
from staring drivers
who cut off the pedestrians
and separate Romeo from Juliet
on either side of the street

They are fast on their way
to going mad, thinking
of a secret lover
beneath the scars
of their lies

*** and frustrations

toss and turn behind the fronts --


of neighbourly love.

He wanted to romp

with me, that's what he called it --


and I was startled.

But in your poem

I didn't find any meaning --


that was about us.

You are too beautiful
to be touched
by anyone, by me

alone, I hope
if I may, if I dare
to do what someone may one day

I pass your house
There is only a window
between me and your bed

in which I dream myself
when I cannot sleep
and hold my breath

and time stands still
intoxicated by your lips
I feel your hand

on my chest, no
I won't run away
when you open the door

Private brainstorming,

a smashing serious clash:


puberty chaos.

Children rush past me,

I hold on to the edge, no --


longer a mother.

As a child, I milked

cows with Harry Outerwoods --


Who remembers him?

Bends between mossy boulders
Poor reception in the clouds
on the mountains, they recede and close
behind me, keep my thoughts

trapped on the road
No views, not stopping
for a ***, driving quietly
Standing still is dangerous, perhaps

I'm going to cross a pass to the sun
Still a thought
out of the fog of my feelings
I miss the sun

Bits of Nostalgia on the radio
with a lot of noise
Would it help to cry

once that is safe?

Alone in my house,

being enclosed by the fog --


A cow is mooing.

There are quays for, for

passers-by: the spectators --


and the cargo boats.

Like lottery *****

we keep changing position --


We're dancing on air.

Life is good
in Brussels and Amsterdam
People do their work

without headlines and footnotes
without indolence and excuses
in advance

Work and rules change
but everyone knows for themselves
what it takes, being of service

and satisfied, every time
the customers are kings for a while
and both are human with each other

A nice reunion,

on the pier, babbling water --


and a quacking duck.

Plastic chairs, shaped in

such a way that I can't help --


but think of buttocks.

Under shiny drops
the windowsill is black
with mould, they eat
pollen and glumes, stuck
on a bed of honey-
dew from the linden trees

I'm stuck in sadness
not knowing why
... Yet you are much stronger
... do not grieve no longer
... just light up your day
... smile the tears away
sings his warm voice
in my sadness

without knowing why
tears full of melancholy
shine in my heart
with colourless desires
from the low clouds
that cry in silence

The rain shower pours

down, it rustles everywhere --


I'm treading water.

His brotherly love

carries a knife, in my life --


nothing may go wrong.

If there is space, you'll

start smiling because it is --


how you want to live!

We tore our misunderstanding
in two abrasive stories

...... flakes of sour air

kept our own half
just like Saint Martin
but the other way around

...... between us: the shredder

we just took our right with us
it was so much work to do it away

...... up to three pieces at a time

rather we armed ourselves
under the skin, the gloss
shone through it

...... do not touch me

On the beach I think

about our days here, and you --


blow away again.

The friendship is so

delicate, we cannot say --


goodbye properly.

I write about you

so as not to lose you, so --


as to be with you.

Follow your gaze
to a love hotel
that does not yet know love

Smell your temper
Yes, I want you, I want you
in the lap of my desire

Arrange your locks around
my love, let them sway
on waves of pleasure

Wrap your thoughts
around my finger, let them
lick my skin

Cry for the festoons
we've known, kiss
the heart on which stranded

A friend should simply

understand me, any words --


make it difficult.

Again and again

the baneling draws the borders --


he desires to cross.

Sometimes I'm nostalgic
for frost flowers and a hot water bottle
old winter fantasies

to pictures of the parvis
our house full of aunties
the garden full of apples

a basket full of nuts
always something to celebrate
then, but for now

that is much too far away
now it is empty
behind the pictures

I could take with me
Missing the barren land
the wonder of the gardens

missing the unpacked smells
of the market and the passion
missing the songs of my youth

wiped and overwritten
I lead a new life
in my emigrated hand

About everything

I saw, I cry, drowning tears --


in oblivion.

It's raining, I look,

and my friends thankfully leave --


me alone today.

We follow the ****,

the sun has sunk next to us --


and makes the grass gleam.

We talk a lot, it can be
about everything, carefully
when it becomes intimate
and we explore how far

we dare to show ourselves
how shamelessly
curious we're allowed to be
about what is hidden

in uncertainty
longing
for the confirmation
that it is good

and we are good
as we are
as we live
in each other's attention

I breathe calmly and

open myself to you, whom --


I do not know yet.

At night I enchant

you with a kiss, then we'll both --


sing for happiness.

In my finest clothes

I radiate happiness --


because she loves me.

Who does not know
that a rose is happiness
and seeing a rose is happiness

that passes?
You are the blushing happiness
that I watch

For whomever you
open your petals
it is also for me

Happiness wells up in me
I myself unfold
through you

We kiss at the sea,

all our worries blow away --


It is spacious here!

You don't take a stand,

because it's complicated --


you say with a sigh.

Not at home. Not there,

nor here. At night I shout it --


over the rooftops.

Still after all the years
the mystery
that I love most, you

and your image of me
that you mirror to me
the image to my thoughts

and my promise
to you, my more and less
beautiful for you

in your eyes
that desire me
and call me