A million stars fell on the beach,
Each one a thought that never made it,
Moments, faded into dense eternity.
You say: The water is assembling now,
The sky is trembling. It was noticed, all of it.
We won’t live to see results, but let it be this way.
Let’s walk along the shore, my hand in yours,
Go side by side, go far away, before
The sea will find us here where none can stay.
Let’s fade together and become a shell. A star.
A thought escaping from the rising tide. Farewell.
My memory of how we met that day
Before we fell in love, before we knew,
Is gaining golden layers in every May,
And more and more is speaking about you.
It happened suddenly: out of the blue
You stood before me. What was I to say?
We did what strangers are supposed to do;
The smiling of our eyes gave us away.
We tried to lie about it though ’t was true
That I would never want to leave, but stay
And for a while I thought you had no clue.
We were to part again, our love astray.
Now we’re two strangers on the quay, you say,
Both watching sailing ships move in the bay.
She told me my future on a cold Summer’s day,
On the quay of the harbour in Whitby,
And it sounded too weird for my ears to believe.
But while seven years passed, her predictions came true
Like she said, one by one. (I’am still due for more offspring
and some very good luck.) How she knew?
If she’s still there, and psychic enough,
She will know I’ll be grateful as long as I live
For her viewing and all of her magic.
We turned directions and I’m lost, this town
A forest where I don’t know anything,
A flow of strangers in whose eyes I don’t
See recognition; rivers streaming in
Both ways, and toxic fumes hazing my sight.
It’s warmer here than home, the air a sweet
Unsalted crust, with some medieval scents,
We are closed in by history though
No one seems to care. We hear the witches
crying murder as they burn and drown.
It’s where you live. It feels as if I know
These walls, none straight, all old.
A train is speeding through the mumbling night
With purple big haired girls and tired young faces.
We turned directions and I’m home right here.
I want to undermine your doubts again,
Remember how that used to work? But now
You’re not the person who you were, right then,
So there’s no guessing what to do and how.
You often threw the towel in the ring,
And I am out of optimistic views,
As living happily might be another thing
Than life, I’m telling you no news.
I fold the laundry once again for you,
The many towels ready for a toss:
It’s up to you. Your winning or your loss.
I only undermine, that’s all I do.
Throughout my skin I felt you touching me;
Your fingers leapfrogged gently down my spine.
Now I wake up you are not here, I see
Reflections in the mirror glass are mine.
My sudden somberness will not decline.
You have been visiting my dreams, to be
My lover who has made my nights so fine
To leave me loveless. I’m an amputee,
But you were here alright, so says the sign:
You drew the curtains open for the sun to shine.
Throughout my skin I feel it touching me.
Caterpillars slowly move towards the day,
Crawling anxiously across the last of moonbeams,
Waiting for the scented flowers blooming,
And you awake without your sanity again.
You fell through the horizon of your mind;
Now beauty comes in butterflies of verse,
Each of them being you, escaping from mundanity
Until the night returns and new born caterpillars crawl.
The sky is the roof we’re supposed to share,
The horizon the limit to be stretched,
So much we have words for, that is not there.
There’s no sky, the blue is black eternity,
There’s another horizon everywhere.
I hid the key for you to find. There is
A fire where I have left myself behind.
Under this sky we used to talk and speak.
Now I am where you stood and see how quaint
Horizons are to those who keep on falling.
Your eyes tell me you have given up
Being more than a bundle of habits
Sewn in a suit, dragged on through long days of talk
Without speaking, hung in a wardrobe at night but I notice
You are holding a pen as if you still write.
The clock has been silent for as long as I know,
An ornament without use, rusty hands desperately
Pointing towards God in accusation
But you wipe off its dust three times an hour.
It has witnessed a war and occupants in this room
Soldiers in a strange land, laughing with bravery
But the clock was silenced, for its ticking fed their guilt.
You lost your wife in a camp.
One day you took the class out in the fields for making sketches
And I tried to draw you. I started with your eyes,
But I tore up the paper before you could see them.
You were my teacher but I can’t remember what subject you taught.
Maybe it was life. Most likely it was German. Not art.
I peek through madly waving curtains,
Flashing the bottom of the sky.
Stars flicker as slimy sours, my energy floating
Towards the big black eternity,
Then the curtains fall back again
And for a moment I am convinced
Life is good and all will stay the same.
A chair has been here through all of us,
Now it is unstable, the paint bladdering,
And it will only keep your clothes at night,
Not both of ours. I remember me blushing
When I saw your pants making love to my skirt.
Once we slept in a room with a carpet, our feet
Excited for every warm step, and mice gave birth there
Or so you said (how were you to know, it
Was not our house) and I saw a spider die on it.
If you know the story behind upholstery
Would you sleep? The mites, the bugs, who died between
The sheets we bought on auction?
Pillows talk when we are out, recalling our dreams
And having a laugh over our romantic escapades,
But once in a week I get back at them
Kicking them senseless, all in the name of good hygiene.