Californian dreams
Of butterfly music
She sings in the shower
Of colours in the sky
People living in the sand
A riverride away from 
Angels' tears Yet once
You've dipped your toe 
In the pool you are lost 
Winter waves still sweet
She likes to settle the red
With the pink In the shade
While the elegant fragrance
Through the open windows
The rain check becomes
A sun check with him
The life of her mind
A love in her life

The room is cold 
dirtied by the empty 
cups, full ashtrays, he's
never been tidy but has
just let go today, himself, 
her last morning. He's
trying to find his way
piles of post, books, empty
paper over the table
He's lost his contacts,
his phone silent since
no one cares. She doesn't
so why so angry, hopeless
The thought of doing
anything about anything
just riles him beyond
imagination. 
The memory of being 
happy about happyness 
just stifles him beyond
inspiration. 
He knows it's his fault
too even then
even now no aptitude
to bring his love to her light.

The leaves whisper
an ocean in my ears
The drops dripping
rhythm in my vessels
The damp soil leaves
a fresh scent in my toes
These salty tears
an impossible future 
in my opinion.

While you're drifting
off like the weather
with the weather
It is good to know
How the wind and rain sweep
you off your feet
romantically and rancorously
How life's intent to sweep
your rain and shine
regardlessly

little flakes of cloudy breaths
from the top all the way down
Winter is beauty and bear
cold pale and pain
grey eating and drinking
So strategically dressed
she sticks to sitting outside
where the patio heater
Cannot read, concentrate
filling days with endless
songs and numberless walks
Feeling cold still no matter
there'll be birdsong without fall
Wrapped up in a thousand shawls
jewelry has different looks
On the back of an envelope
she scrawls her fears for those
bogeymonsters in dreams now
The ginger-haired guy from her
adolescence nightmares is back
Summer makes her someone else
entirely no dark on the doorstep
no bogeyguys on an envelope

Indeed there are solutions
though temporary
and superficial
to the dark wave
the deep soul
kickshaw on dark matters
heaviness where light would be
more appropriate
Triggers, head down, keep
moving though
The trees actually
were never silent
and deepdown she is waiting
something to happen
someone who sees
A solitude her life grey skies
blue sunsets the horizon
shall always be out of reach

The long driveway up to
the farm has these big trees
bending across | filtering the sunlight
into diffused thick green intensity
only mildly shining through
the hugging branches

it is like diving underneath the
surface of a pond covered by
duckweed | mystery glows in rays

She suddenly stopped
laughing and blenched,
twisting her hands
behind her back
caught in the middle
of a rock and that place
of feeling fear and
feeling whirlwinds
of fearing the final destination
of ageing and losing
why should moments change
her past everywhere
her future to be ameliorated

on a Sunday with my dad
to the video store for more
Eastwood and Bronson
as well as a bit of Bond
as every Sunday we are
tomato soup and hot dogs
melted cheese with mayo
on top. Heater high, grey
days gone when with him.
Practically every week the
film boy told us we'd already
seen that one. How we were
convinced that not what'd
spoiled the mood anyway.

She sits on the window sill
legs bungling outside
ivy rustling in the breeze

A look at the river
A look at the vastness
she lights up and breathes out

He should just shut up
about last Saturday
about his aversions

He knows she fears too
He saw her temper
her tears like pearls

No sound though softly
without leaving a mark
No red eyes no shame

Descend into the wavelets
Descend into the song
away from him as
they both know and unsettle

As we passed each other
Windy night, dark outside
Looking but no -
Things go like this
Anyway
You turned around and said:
Why follow how things go
So we ended up beyond looking
A film! That didn't end
particularly well in the end
It is all about intentions
And my intention on that particular corner
of that particular night was that
I decided to stop thinking
about you as my heart and home
So I followed this destraction
came right on time
But every shelf life expires
Anyway
Thank you for being the best rebound boy
ever, forever and never

Saturday's march to the library
Family in cosy circle on Sunday
Tea black with milk and sugar
Telly channels in apple-pie order
Parties in cosy circles, thick smoke, glass tables
The neighbours your uncle and auntie
the kids put to bed in another bed
Dad with a pint (or two) to drive us all back
Our sofa a coffee brown corduroy
my record player orange and only ABBA
Didn't get the dark gloomy part these days
An oyster for a world
Life plane sailing from then onwards

To hold on to those answers
that much
might mean
you embrace your differences
too much
in vain?
To hold on to these shoes
so much
might be
you walk your directions
too much
no avail!
To look at yourself
over & over
To listen to yourself
on & on
It became crystalclear
The things I did
not see
not hear             at first
Yet
It becomes unclouded
The things I do
need to
Left with your plain history
Build my cherished future

Unexpected maturity
put on me by
a decision that
had to be made
which pushed me
out to travel
which pushed you
into your martyr ship

a seat in the quiet coach
where people always need to tell
where they are
or discuss how long potatoes
need to cook
in a way it falls to me
to point out that we want
quiet
for fellow passengers just seem to sit
and stare or is it me
anyway to intervene because
i've got lots of sentences
stored and packed for the occasion
any way.

standing in the shower until
the water turns cold
my tears stop mingling
my stomach stops aching
the heart turns polar

I used to like to
stay in bed but now I just
keep on walking
all over town,
to pass the time
to walk you out of my system
to see the beauty of my town
again
use that as an analogy -
Because it is too late
How I did love you
once
and how I am just hiding
now
And I keep on wondering if we
really did try -

She
Dives in
Rough waves and
He
Not even a
Look up
She
Though independent
Always precious when
He
Looks after
And up
Once in a moon

With him and a gala dress at the annual dinner
a glimpse into the traditional university world
outside the middle class she sprouted from
where she knows she will always belong to
no matter what face/title/necklace/gown

There's just this much
room in your head
to lament
other one's sorrow
she thought.

I am so done
Wake up do the same eat the
same sitting in the same train
Over and over
I don't want this don't want these clothes books
phone calls friends who are not
I am hurt alone unhappy and so bored
So done
That's it, yes, done. None of it means
anything anymore
I cannot feel anymore show affection or
understand who all is still the same and you
are doing the same still.
Over and over

no time to take of his coat
to put away his briefcase or hat
she just sat there at the kitchen table and
looked with the saddest eyes
he unbottoned
got his gin
she threw her ring on the kitchen floor
looked at the plates and the stove
she hadn't cleaned
and all the years
fell down

With this music
I put on my mood
and never change a tune.

I rather draft random thoughts
than a series of consecutive imagery
that will drive me to a meaning, a reason,
the cause for doing what I'm doing
and not doing what I really should be.

She had looked forward to
this life with him
sharing a house and some
kids and meals
dancing in the living room
(although with some diffidence
sometimes).
She ended up looking back
to a life without
anything like that
but travels and lucky stars
and the wind taking care of the laundry.

I still love you
I do
but really
not you
It's more the memory of
our love for music
our humour when love
a Saturday morning late breakfast
wondering around the city
and ending up drunk
your body
oww yes
That.

I feel so close to him
See our sameness
Our madness
Yet I want to run
from responsibilities
and caresses
from guilt
and ordinary gardens
I want what is possible within
the impossible, want to feel
safe within the danger of
understanding me and loving him.

The moment she will free herself
from time and body
No longer feeling exposed
while naked on the bed
No longer feeling the clock
and worrying about dinner
She'll stop running
She'll start having a heart
She'll get what she wants.

She just cannot start something
and then continue
and / or finish it
A compulsion to look for newer
better faster more-r louder
All reflexes properly apple-pie
A good mood goes a long way
An allergy to keeping
All and ego interfering
desires versus capacities
very disappointing all in all
Others thought she was intelligent
The image others shape, right?
She found it in fact a short sense
of willing ambition drive...
So she started to exist for the others
and played along the intelligent line
wondering whether to feel shame / guilt
and then deciding on neither
on nothing
The trees were indeed never silent
Her energy was indeed an actual gift

want to laugh a lot
want to eat the whole day
want to have five coffees
want to work part time
want to stop eating all the time
want to cry for a week
want to stop feeling desolate
want to start thinking less
want to live in a warm place for a year
want to live in a bare place for another

So, 
he does believe he's 
kinda special for
writing this script
riding his coupe
feeding her enough *****
to last till the new year

Still,
he does misfeel he's 
kinda double for
reviling her moves
ridiculing this nomadness
touching her enough times
to stay till the new year

So,
he read an ego book he's
kinda full of 
put a bottle in the fridge
after his divorce

Yet,
she finds life
less humourful than
the dialogues he's
playing with pretending

less 
rigid
less 
ruleful

What she wants to
learn without being undermined
kiss without being threatened 
laugh without being scripted. 

The new year a haven 
to those
wandering souls.

From whichever angle
the palace rises
She knows a wonderful way
of hoping for
Face to face with
the people the pleasure
her failure
Veering away from blame,
angst, diffidence,
She knows she's not nice
She hopes for them - read: him -
a maximum possible joy
a maximum radiant days before she -

The lines of that song
on the radio
humming along though

The smell of your perfume
next to me on the tube
breathe in even though

That one coffee in the morning
alone in my kitchen
don't think just drink

Unexpected moments
expectantly right in my face
my heart stops and
instinctively my own life
on our terms
somehow still
sensing where you are...

nothing more than to feel secure
about herself, and free
to run to the water and not
feel her own body or
other eyes looking
moving away and into
the opposite of being noticed
what she does want too
walking past a terrace
her summer dress and long legs
hidden under the drape
warmth through the windows
tinkling through the open door
enough friendly people to
sit alongside too

I never thought you
could grieve over a river
love to walk beside it
still leaving it for the ocean
and then...

I never thought you
could grieve over a city
love the illuminated streets
yet leaving it for the desert
but then...

I never thought you
could grieve over a house
feel at home and with you
still leaving it for a suitcase
because...

You never thought I
could grieve over a sofa bed
how I enjoyed settling with you
but I left you for life

May I wish myself
all the happiness in the world
all that's truly valuable
Treasures as such
Beaches and trees
Mountains and forgiveness
and good coffee
exceptionally good coffee

When we are on the phone
I look at myself in the mirror
cannot help but
feel turned on by
this girl reflection
the one you bring out
the one I want to be
pretty slim witty
with wrinkles when smiles
with good ******* and tight waist
my best dress saved for this
day and date
nonexistent not arranged yet
not tempted either anyway.

He never apologised
when they were together
Then did once when he accused
me for being - well never mind
Maybe he actually did want to do so
But he was afraid - ashamed
Maybe he just did want to pretend
Like many of his friends
Like all of his family
who hide and don't see matters
Like it would be better to not admit
you yourself got anything to do, so
All what's wrong is not yours
And it is true of course
All that feels as guilt is
a lot for a human to bear

I just don't understand
the way things go round,
the way I tick, with you
too = as in:
a simple quiet bay
should do the trick to
calm down a bit
then = as in:
the vivid light city
should play the trick to
live up a bit
love up a bit
A wildfire of views
brighten still blur
while, block
the songs in mind
the stormy sea heart
just rolled into it
I am amazing
I am aimless
But never too late
well, grand of me
life = inevitable
never know where
to clock you
===
I need love you
I love need you

Isn't it ever so funny
how he got
profoundly disorientated
for the entangled streets of Mexico
Parking him on the Plaza Mayor
while off on my own for a decent hotel
While I would lose way
for the neat streets
and straight squares of Berlin
While showing this all as a fun fact
while knowing this all a metaphor
My heart always yours
My road so never more

One day less
Better late than never
Deadly ill all stressed out
but work distracts
keeps on track
apparently
Work work work
When in Buenos Aires and Madrid
the real questions were:
are you married?
how many kids?
Here it is:
what's your job about?
Taking distance
Taking care of cats dogs now
With my two titles my mum
adds bitterly funny
Friends don't follow no work
keeps you out of loops
apparently.

It was ever so nice meeting you
We must do this again
sometime

When I was young I used to
harbour the sky looking for
the clouds with promises
drifting out like my heart
and legs wanted to
like my head and feet
started to do

and the sky turned blue

Laterness on a swing bridge
near our new house looking up
the clouds have stranded
rocks in the sky
stuck against my heart
and legs while my head
starts to hold

in a different direction

What do we do
to each other?
to ourselves?
Overhearing two girls in
a fitting room:
This looks far more sexier
on her than on me.
No.

In that house with that man
There was a kitchen and a view
There was another moment in time
Say
another version of me
Because the real version came out
in Mexico and Argentina when
learning the language the culture eating
Dulce de leche
Dulce enough to be truly happy
Enough leche to never want to go back home
again
On the airport my heart truly hurts
A wave of black of sad of knowing
the end.

Maybe it is not my
insecurity
as it is
just plain intolerance.

Wear this say that
No not that
Ow just smile
And I do
Because I want
to be 
liked.

So much for saying
a lot without
so much at all
Except of course
that you're gonna ask
the ex-wife to buy you
a plane ticket
so you can come over
to see me
So much.

7 pm you're too sweet
picking me up from work
8 pm and a drink of course
which is always nice
with your shoulder touching mine
and looking at you is
10 pm and it was nice
11.30 pm until you threw your mattress on the floor
away from me and refusing
which is
1 am ado
6 am and I am not going there again
anymore
8 am I.am.leaving.you

Do you fancy a cup of tea?
Do I need to go to the postal office?
Why are my limbs so heavy?
And my thoughts even more?
When does the light kick in again?
When will I meet you?

Life has been cleft into
our life before and my life after
his death.