Daddy's friends like to laugh
and have another beer
to watch me
when I bring it

but today they fall silent
you could be bothered yourself
with a difficult daughter
who posts poems

about *** and the love
of her father and
a distant lover

What is the matter with him
and this interest in my inner self?
Too bad, he does not understand

Only in fantasy can I express
what I need and
what makes me angry

Yellow draws the child:

sun, red: a roof, green: a hedge,


and white: that's the road.

My face rocks
among the flowers
above the deep sun
in the water

I sit on the side
and see me
in the circle
of yellow glory

I want to be honest
bloom together
vulnerably naked
shivering in the wind

take care of myself
without illusions
about myself and you
You are just like me

and we are equally in love
with each other's beauty
as with ourselves, two springs
on one waterfront

Yellow olive oil:

within its golden beauty --


the sun is shining.

It's quiet down in the dumps
only echoes from my heart
repeating who I am

until my head acquiesces
in who I am, saying yes
time and time again

without giving me names
of Good, Bad, Less
and Indulgent

I have to get on
with my qualities
which I needed and

which only in the present tense
should be weighed
for what I am worth

I'm not going to drown myself
in sorrow and pain
which point to the culprits –

I'm hurt, that's all

With tender hands
you may carefully
undress and caress me

give me big kisses
heat and cold
won't harm me, I smell

fertile in your arms
open you with my skin
strip you of calluses

and stiffness, yes I do
want to be pregnant
with you, without temptation

be desired by you
every day, I want all
of you, cherish children

and grandchildren
in gardens and orchards
with a house full of rooms

Yes, I've a stomach,

I do not hide it: I am –


me and you are you.

Yes, mwaw hwale re hwoot,

so nice, oh ** mwurt, careful --


ow, you're hurting me!

Yesterday, today,

tomorrow, it's familiar --

and a mystery.

Yes, that's what dreams do,

I feel something that isn't there –


no longer there: you.

Under me are your hands warming
my buttocks, you knead and feel
whether they tighten already, we play

lipping and licking, with each other's
softest skin and postpone

to choose between feeling and
touching, or turning around
for both at the same time, we burn

inextinguishable love in our desire
I shiver, the window is wide open

it's too late for shame
by the neighbours or to get up
yes yes open me, the whole world

is vibrating in me, in all my cells
the symphony of my life

Yet his pessimism

does cheer us up in some way --


it's quite laughable!

Yet this anecdote

about father says little --


about who he is.

Yet what does it mean

that you have taken my hands --


in yours just like that?

Yet your desires too

move on large wheels -- do not run


over anyone!

You and you only

know my pain, for you yourself --


did it, broke my heart.

The cypresses stand tall
against the pale evening blue
far from here, heat is pressing
on the city where you live

thinking of all kind of things
maybe thinking of me
maybe of yourself
being reflected by me
      
Just because, precisely because
you don't know, you can't
know, I know
that you know, that
I see and know
      
who you are, shining
what I don't tell anyone
what I feel
and cry out in myself
You are, you shine, you!

We are embraced in the bath
of our friendship, unharmed
by the curiosity
of my family, caressing

You wander off
to the eyes of my sister
in which we are desirably naked
with a vigorous member

I notice it and revert

You are back, close
Everywhere is your body
adjusting itself softly
to my soul, fulfilled

is my sleeping desire
for your warm body
full of all the years
since we were together
      
and were not together

You are beautiful,

like all the other people --


I get to know well.

You are beautiful,

don't let anyone fool you --


he says rather wrong.

You are beautiful,

taste it! It is on my tongue --


it's kissing your lips.

Falcons do not grab footwear
for their nest, not the slipper
that the Pharaoh gets served on his lap

.....He looks up and everyone
.....looks with him
.....at the falcon in the sky

It must be a sign
an assignment from heaven
and the search begins

.....The welfare of the entire nation
.....is at stake, the question
.....is: to find or to fall

The court moves from cottage to cottage
to see the women and the girls
all over the wide delta

.....The heavenly slipper fits at the foot
.....of the foreign Pale Face
.....the slave who is different

She had put it to dry
after washing clothes in the river
and shows the other one

You are familiar,

I always see how you feel –


yet I do not know.

You are here with me

and the world is everywhere --


You can talk through it.

You are poetry,

sleeping in a guest-room bed --


and I keep watching.

You are tired, I can

see through you, you're beautiful --


my private spirit.

You can be so hard,

then I kiss and caress you –


soft as a baby.

You can, just do it

out of fear: welcome strangers –


into your own home.

You can lean your head

full of tears upon me, then --


it becomes lighter.

You can't see it
in the room, not on the floor
you can't see it anymore
      
in my sheath, the wound
of his blind attack
it's over, I am
      
myself, my body
washed, my home recaptured
ready for the fight
      
with you, whoever you are
you follow, until I release you
until I release myself

it is my bed, my belly
your pleasure has to wait
for what I want

because I didn't want to
not to see, not to feel, not to remember
I wandered over the ceiling

the nothing of nowhere
I was not there, not at home
in this room, on this floor

You can vaguely see

what was and what will be, but --


Now remains hidden.

You change every day,

you don't want me, I miss what --


has not even been.

'You come with me?' Woof

'You like something to eat?' Woof


'Come on my lap!' Woof

I sleep on this couch because
at home, it doesn't go right now
you know it happens

My friends do
what they can
they help me

Not so much to help me
but as the answer
to my unspoken question

Of course
things are changing
and of course
      
I am still safe
here, together, here
in this house

is my safe square, a bed
here are their hands, reaching
to my hand

You cry in your sleep,

that is a side of yourself --


that you don't know yet.

You did, you said: I.

How dare you! What do you think!


That you are something?

You did, you said: you.

As if I just have to be --


obliging to you.

You don't care about

me, so I hope you have fun --


I am doing well.

You don't live to get

to know yourself, nonetheless --


it is part of it.

You don't share my love

for you, but this very night –


you too see the moon.

You don't take a stand,

because it's complicated --


you say with a sigh.

You don't talk about

a patient, at most you say:


it is a headache.

You don't understand

me, very well, start thinking --


what I meant to say.

You do protect friends,

for them, you accept to be –


someone's enemy.

You eat of the past

only the halal portion:


the bloodless stories.

You find your own laws

of nature, because you choose --


your observations.

You flow in my blood,

alive in me are your spores --


Wild Wonder flower.

'You haven't changed at all!'

He laughs at his compliment --


that is a question.

You have to look back

now and then to catch a glimpse --


of where you're going.

You have to pay: be

beautiful, and nice, and hope --


it is sufficient.