Zywa Old hunger

You went away, I went on
loving you and out of the blue
there you are at my door
with a sleeping mat

I just sit and watch
You drop anchor
and want to show

all kinds of things, explaining them
with your hands and I have no idea
how this started

It all goes by itself
I am glad
I was home, am home

I make soup
there is rye bread
We are hungry
Old hunger

Poem 1078
Amsterdam, 2017-02-25

Collection: Untwisted 
Keyword: Reunion 
Zywa
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