Touched by Night
(memento tangere, for Ulla)
your touching me
no matter how lightly
makes all the night-
mares gallop back
to where they came from
remembering your touch,
no matter how sleepily
lets strong white mus-
tangs drag my self
through the dead of night.
Ships and Trains and Thoughts
Everything looks so deserted
in that big bathroom we´ve got;
guess you took a shower there this morning
but I decide I´d rather not.
I´m too tired from the journey
though a girl sent me a song;
did you enjoy the company of strangers
or am I, as you say, as usually wrong.
Do we always miss each other
like two trains just rushing by,
two ships seen from a far distance
where the water meets the sky.
Letters and bills upon our table
which you´ve piled up there for me;
I add books to them I´ve brought you
but I forgot the perfume while at sea.
You´ve left for readings on Australia
which equals happiness for you,
said we made up for good over there -
how I wish that it were true.
Will we always miss each other
like two trains just rushing by,
two ships seen from a far distance
where the water meets the sky.
Through the Night, Singing
we touch again
now shyly but deliberately
like two divorced
and newly married
partners, unwrapping
their wedding china
in quiet disbelief
if I can get you
if you can get me
through the night
everything will turn out right
we touch again
in the depth of night
like two children
unable to light
a new candle,
yet remembering
a couple of songs
they´ve learnt together.
if you can see me
if I can see you
through the night
everything will be all right.
----------------------------------------------------
The Creaking Door
My love for you´s
an old creaking door.
Sometimes it´s a blow in the face -
unexpected, vigorous -
to open up my eyes again.
Sometimes it´s an open invitation
to a surreal world
of rotten dreams
and mildewed expectations.
Sometimes, yes sometimes
it´s a breeze
once fresh, always gentle
on my face and
in the marrow
of my soul.