It is afterwards
I saw you again
You talked to me
It is after the day's heat
Left the cave
Air on skin I write
Dark outside,
but still inside the thought machine
outside eyes drink world
inside soul tries to erase, unload, let go
love is a monologue in my head
it does not reach, not touch you
It is before
Before I will see you again
Before the heat creeps up
and I close the shutters
before coffee touches tongue
wide awake before sleep
afterwards I slip into dream
flooded town
panic,
but they all survive
panic,
but I don't drown.
No colours,
grey and brown dreamscape.
Pen, paper, in love with this movement,
the shape of letters.
What I visualise never happens.
I live in the difference.
Your face, voice, laughter -
part of my substance.
You keep me out,
kick me out,
functionalise,
marginalise.
no temptation,
just a voice in the crowd,
but
mirrors confirm my existence.
It is after
coffee touched tongue.
I write in the dark
before ...
you are somewhere else
probably writing too.
You look for your centre,
your love
you move through fear.
Let go, my love, let go.
I touch your withdrawal.
You are somewhere else.
All attempts to stop loving
make me love more.
So I let it be part of my breath.
It is after I saw you.
It is before I'll see you again.