Zywa
Space, ease, myself
Space, ease, myself
breathing, feeling the stitches
under my ribs and the poison
in my body, in my head
Not thinking about that
Every day a friend
who cares
about her own interests
No curiosity, patronising
and consolation, only
an embrace and
being spoiled a bit
Awake, not dreaming
in my sleep, walking around
in the colours of the world
and eating roasted peanuts
in the park, the park
always a park
a forest, a dike or a beach
and otherwise my balcony
|