Well, I used to cry,

but I stopped, because no one --


cared, no one at all.

Well, I've become who

I didn't want to be, and she --


is okay with it.

Well, people die, and

then we are sad for a while --


till the sun returns.

Well, people know me,

I'm decent, I'm cordial --


and I talk and talk.

We'll talk again soon,

late this afternoon: at night --


when you are back home.

Well, there is no road,

walker, only by walking –


roads are being formed.

Well, the usurer

was generous, nonetheless --


Was it his money?

Well, to be buried

is giving in after all –


in to gravity.

Well, ultimately,

human beings are born from --


the same Father: Chance.

We'll wash the dishes,

talking between silences --


only, do not sing!

Well, what my age is?

I have many and waver --


Which one shall I choose?

Well, when would one be

too old to do that, kissing --


under a shelter?

Well, you better hide

your thoughts, others don't have them --


It makes them jealous.

We lock up troubled

teens, being too reluctant –


to take any blame.

We look like marble

lovers on a tomb, being --


married for so long.

We only 'conquer'

our own place in the world by --


living together.

We pile up power

and build the tallest tower --


Then it collapses.

We're back in his house,

and my shoes are on the shelf --


And his shoes are not.

We're barbarians:

people who destroy what they --


do not understand.

We're eating the meat

of nameless animals still --


unknown to Noah.

Mama
what I tell you
what I don't tell anyone else

what has happened
what cannot be explained
what we better leave as it is

I have no idea
how it can be otherwise
whether it should be otherwise

mama
we're having a good time
we can talk, talk

about something else
polish our words
let them glide lightly

along the scraping walls
around the discomfort
listening half

inventing the rest ourselves
then it will go
isn't that how it goes?

Those secrets, mama
we don't need to know them
out loud, you know

I miss the long walks
the long evenings together
the boredom of before

We're not together,

but write the more lovingly --


'You're so dear to me!'

We're walking along,

I see what you see, and I --


point out what I see.

We're walking along,

I see what you see, and I --


point out what I see.

We say goodbye, short

- long - stop, the signalling code --


of: I think of you.

We shout many views,

are seldom examining --


our very standpoints.

We sing and that's how

we make a very good time --


out of the waiting.

We sit back to back

against my mother's headstone --


Nice conversations.

We sit in silence,

the silence of our state-room --


echoing silence.

We swim in the sea,

no one is flying to us –


no one is drowning.

It is going well, we are driving fast
away from where the bombs fall
Fatima's hand sways move move

We are many
stronger than the rules
we break through them

to a rich country, not a monastery
we do come to live slowly
but we bring our own rules

We want to work, take time
to learn and get married
to have a future

and to give it
to our parents
who did not believe in it

We talk searchingly,

confidentially, as if --


we are weaving dreams.

We wanted to say

so much, we told everything --


with our eyes only.

We wear white plastic

slats as a stole, we're playing --


a Roman drama.

We went to the beach,

I chained our bikes together –


so intimately.

We went to the moon

for the moon, and saw something –


else: our planet Earth!

We were citizens,

and suddenly our faith has --


become suspicious.

We were here before;

then, like blind people, we didn't --


notice each other.

We were once ashamed

together, now I'm ashamed --


of you, against you.

We were Teen Titans,

the five of us, we were going --


to change everything.

We will remain friends,

it's familiar to us how --


different we are.

We fade, we slowly sneak
away, out of the anecdotes
and the photos that remain

for strangers, later
also stripped
of our memories

everything digested
into something else
you and we dissolved

in new lives
with their own stories
in which we whisper softly

we will whisper forever
in the ancestral choir
of the human species

What are her feelings

for me? Well, I could ask her --


but that is risky.

What a strange office!

Still, it turned out that I stayed:


I got used to it.

What a theatre!

Would he have any idea --


who he is today?

What can be the word

for everything that exists? –


Would this word be love?

Ill again. Panic
of falling into pieces
in my own skin

Trying all I can
to hold myself
Looking for weapons
and dreaming of ruses
Waking up without

Walking the problem out
the door, having to rest
somewhere in the grass, seeing blood
well up from an abrasion

Taking a baffled look at it
My worthless body full
of fresh blood, full of strength
There is still so much to do

what I thought I could
postpone, time and attention
for friends in the waiting
rooms of my eager life

Come on, I live, I can
bleed and be ill, take care
of others, I live –
no measured hours

What are the limits of love?
What can you do with love
that is blowing back

to yourself, return sender?
Should you leave?
But how do you leave

someone you care about?
You feel the barbs
of your love cut

in your happiness
You feel the pain
of the abrasions

the pain under the blood
of your partner
What can you do

to make it better
if it doesn't fit anymore
what you can give each other?

There are limits to love
to what your love can do
if there is no bed

in which it can flow
so it dries out and
your life withers

What does my father

smell like inside, how much worse --


than his stinking breath?

Whatever happens,

blouses do know the secret --


of fitting of in.