And then the truth appears in absent words
that speak in silence of his coldest shoulders
and his indifference,
but say that real life so got in the way.
Apparently, now they are far apart,
real life is not her space these days.
She is just something on the internet.
He said he had not felt so well with someone,
so relaxed, that he had been without love many years.
It felt alright. It felt like home.
She stayed a week.
Watching herself she knows she is real life.
A woman, mother, human being and a friend. A widow.
And with all pain, this hurt is just one more.
She will survive, move on one day and love again.
Real life etcetera. Once more she learnt a thing or two,
like: don’t believe a lover with
bright pink slippers in his bedroom, when they are not his size.