I want to live, so I have to
praise life, and our folly
having a good time

and getting children, uninhibited
and blind to the hardness
of our existence and of people

their failures, errors and deceit
yes, our flight for each other's
aggression and cruelty

Without ideals, I still want
to discover more of life
I am open to the miracle

that you are another me, but
carefully, since the kindergarten
teacher put my trust in the corner

where I took shelter in obedience
and paying extra attention, because
being myself was dangerous

Tramps are the fairytales of the city

thinly disguised threats, grinning
teeth over my pram

I train myself in just
being nice, I train myself
in smiling thoughts

But a child, my child
will not kiss a pocked toad
or vagrant prince

no matter how true it may be
that evil fairies, old queens
witches, hungry giants, and wolves

only are my fear
of empty, exhausted love
Only are my fear

We surrender
to our passion
and we lick the nectar
that sticks to the arousal

With whispers, sighs
moans and the shouts
that people shout
when they don't behave

but have taken off their clothes
and celebrate the love
which makes their lives special

love, licking
the nectar
each other

Labels come off again
fortunately
life is pulling and pushing

itself free, eventually, wishing
to see and show: the body
merely dressed in its soul

the human being we are
the life we lead
in reality

indistinguishable
from one another, connected
with the Very Greatest

which is too great for us, too great
for narrow-minds knowing-it-all
or thinking they are better –

only our deeds
can share in it
our caring

our love
only our love
is great enough

Increasingly sophisticated
you know your feelings
so interesting
come and see

how open and vulnerable
you like to show yourself
inviting women
to live in you

You have so much to offer
that demands their attention
in your home, but
it's uncomfortable there

cold and hard beside the sofa
on which they pamper you
and you, satisfied
call that love

It's quiet down in the dumps
only echoes from my heart
repeating who I am

until my head acquiesces
in who I am, saying yes
time and time again

without giving me names
of Good, Bad, Less
and Indulgent

I have to get on
with my qualities
which I needed and

which only in the present tense
should be weighed
for what I am worth

I'm not going to drown myself
in sorrow and pain
which point to the culprits --

I'm hurt, that's all

I have two full boxes of mail
and a drawer with old stuff
an autumn leaf from 1989
the wings mama put on me
to see what I had to be

and a few scraps of her voice
from the stealthily moments
when I held my breath
to hear the secrets
she discussed downstairs

Again, I smell what I wished for
her love all day long
and she being happy accordingly
but I should have been an angel
to accomplish it

Only these items have remained
moved over and over with me
to a new version of myself
Sometimes I sniff it, read answers
from then and find questions for now

Under the table, no one
gets in the way with giant shoes
my world can exist there --
until dinner

the houses, roads and construction projects
with all the thoughts of the people
I can read and answer --
with new plans

In the summer there are tables in the garden
with clips on the long cloths
swaying in the light of the wind --
my tent after dinner

which was small and dark at first
full of adults' legs
but cheerful with their voices --
my other world

I stroke the dry grass
clear ways for the ants
and breathe the strange air --
of roses and sweat

All people look at me
but no one sees me
Their looks stop at their fantasy

That's how it is to be almost a goddess
inhuman, an image, an avatar
around my body

concealing that I exist
and preventing me from dying
although everyone wants to kill me

for what It has done
in its creative drive
from which I was born

As if I can do something about
the way men and women see me
and what follies they commit

for the phantom with my name
which is immortal and naked
looking fixedly at them

so that their weapons fall
and they reconcile
with their dreams

The loveliest caress you know
is my radiance on your skin
You cannot be more beautiful
than that feeling

I am your dearest mistress
You take me with the name you give
me: Mistress of Sunlight, brightness
of your life

Your pride makes me
human, knowing
that I'm too light, too hot
to be intimate with you

You can only dream of that
Sometimes you boast
that you brought me to safety
conquered city and country for me

and are living happily ever after with me
sometimes that you have renounced me
and have me murdered in Rhodes
but I'm alive

My grave is not a grave
but a memorial stone
even if your bones lie next to it
as if I have been yours

I have no worries
no other than sex
and the question of what love is
How do I keep his attention?

I'm trying my best
to converse intelligently
and wittily, but
I don't lose the feeling

that our marriage is a play
In bed, he stares away from me
while caressing and making love
He doesn't see my loneliness

but makes the most of it
he keeps me safe in his arms
before he gets active, and then
puts me to sleep on his chest

on his heart, which beats so
quietly and intangibly for me
when it suits him
He doesn't see my beauty

In the amusement park, we kiss
a movie of love and music
Words are unsweetened and pure
An eyebrow raised
for a moment says it all

A girl on roller skates
between the houses of cards
and sand castles gets priority
from staring drivers
who cut off the pedestrians
and separate Romeo from Juliet
on either side of the street

They are fast on their way
to going mad, thinking
of a secret lover
beneath the scars
of their lies