We had tea without honey
The conversation dragged
What did you say? I askied
and he said it again

What could he mean? Searching
for clues, I prolonged the failure
of clear thoughts
by looking around

In the bar mirror, I saw a thread
of my scarf on my coat
It was like a scratch
There's no sense in talking

if you behave like this, I'll go
my friend said and he went
Fifteen minutes later I got up
The tea had become cold

By way of precaution
my hands are tied
above me

I'm not myself, a body
with breasts and access
for nasty eyes

to be watched, beaten
to force me
to laugh

and not to hate, because asked
if I want to hate I had to reply
No, I don't want to hate

loving is what I want
I sobbed and they scolded
me: then do it!

I used to play with dolls
imitating the affairs of the aunts
I knew their trump cards

of yearning jealousy
and revenge on the devils
who make you heavenly happy
before they leave

Now I listen to heartbreak songs
without an answer, songs I know
and could sing along, but
inside, they eat me

instead of giving me hold
how to proceed now it's over
although I was sure of him
and of myself

Oh, may Plato and Socrates be right
that Mister Love is a hunter, lean
unwashed and barefoot, but skilled
in mixing poison?

Do I deserve this while he is exculpated
because good luck does accrue to him
but it always escapes him?

It only gets difficult
when you have an idea

of what love is:
flawed and marked

where wounds are
healed but not gone

the damage suffered, the chains
the shells and the shields

that under the skin destroy
what never thinks of giving up

what germinates in arid soils
and is able to live on nothing

You look into its eyes
you shake its hand

but you cannot embrace her
regardless how strong your desire may be

Symphony on the border
of life at the presence
of the Present One

Broken, after a few hours
on the hard pew
The smell of vomit

a woman carried away
a purgatory and the madness
of the devil before her eyes

He's dancing stomping wildly
like a bear around her
Touch me, destroy me

all my memories
of him, wipe me out
the endless hell of his love

for someone else

On the floor I listen
to you, far away in the house
the sounds linger somewhere

on their way - you soar
like a bird and suddenly
there are questions diving down

on me, that paralyse me
(Sometimes it's your hands
  around my breasts or your mouth
  your sucking mouth)

The ceiling is empty, nothing
to see, only to feel
but I don't even whisper
I hear your footsteps

go, exposed
without answers
you leave me lying here

I cannot hear you anymore
as if I'm alone
or am I?

I can put on nice clothes
and sit in the lap of a man

with blue eyes, drinking champagne
in the colour of his skin
without having any feelings for him

but I just like to sit
on an empty terrace
in my own truth
of an empty terrace

hoping that no one thinks
look, over there
that charming terrace

let's go have some roadside-
flower lemonade there

Irritation, not discussed
sex postponed
and fun things, we
don't come around to it

Right now not important
Right now not the time
Right now not the place
Right now not by itself

Then just talk
about others and still
awake make plans in bed
playing them around

over the soft cushion of my
own version of the facts -
a dream too beautiful
for disbelief

You have your own parties
with old friends, sweet tea
and jokes. I miss you

I comfort myself with music
and go to bed. You come
home, I act difficult

with words that don't match
my feelings, actually
I have no idea

what I should
say now, in confusion
I cannot manage

to be honest
about myself, I just talk
around it and contradict myself

I'm not fair, you say
Yes, that is true
I should not love you

Under the green splendor
of duckweed, the sun turns
away, fish disappear

natural
wonderful balance
of the night

the bed-warm water filter
of silver and silky
black feelings

the parasite flowers
on the waves of ebb and flow
under the large autumn moon

and my love is rolling
back and forth between friends

and lost

Daddy was in my bed
long ago, I keep that
in the oval Choclat tin can
with my straw yellow hair

from the first time
it was cut by daddy
Mum was in the kitchen
wearing her slippers

He waited impatiently
for the porridge and took the scissors
Then, his porridge was too hot
and mum's was too cold

So he moved on
to my plate, creak
my chair broke
Weird but true

my porridge was delicious, just right
just as it should, satisfied
daddy took a nap in my bed
It wasn't too hard and not too soft

just right, just as it should

Lost in the women's section
harmless smiling clumsy
I saw, wanted you

I let you cook for me
and wait after dinner
for a next time, love

is waiting and waiting
is being alive, you were confused
you wanted me

to pamper me, to cook for me
and you had fantasies, patiently
waiting, about a night

with me, love
that will last a lifetime
an adventure of differences

that make our hearts falter
with misunderstandings, but then
they relax again

Chained with my gaze
his desire tries to break loose

but my eyes force him, I take
half of my clothes off and wash him

with ice water until he glows
and wants more, then I pull out hairs

in sensitive places, treat him
until it hurts, I bite

where his skin is thin, lick
the blood, rub salt in the wounds

knock him off and arouse him
with my claws in his imagination

I nestle in his desire
for the end, keeping him erect

until he moans and stammers
sweet words, that reconcile me a while

Mama never asks, she just glances
at my tummy, she knows

I don't want a life like hers
Angrily I run through the suburbs

breaking the rules of the families
that live there, I will not bow

Yet I follow
you, wishing

you were following me as well
and your strength was serving me

My happiness next to yours
My pleasure equal to yours

It is not a big difference, even then
I would let you take me

and wrap me up in feelings
of surrender and satisfaction

even then I would run and even then
people would stare at me

Cleaning up the shelves
swiping the dust away
I take time

to read the old newspaper
with a ristretto
a second one

when I find
a note that I once wrote
about my love, my heart

I was young
my lover had left me
and it was clear, he took

a piece of my heart with him
It happened to me before
Now I'm here with myself

wondering how
my heart can beat
with the love holes

I was in love, I ate you
and drank you in, wanted more
and more of you, your sweet
poison for my never
satisfied needs

The world revolved its days
around us and blew its winds
which didn't seem to affect me
but now, in November
everything has become thinner anyway:

the kisses you give me
     the tenderness that feeds my longing
          your desire in my blood
               my skin under your absence
                    and the pink cloud in which I live

Something is wrong
something is missing
it had to grow big
before I could see it
and taste the bitterness

What are the limits of love?
What can you do with love
that is blowing back

to yourself, return sender?
Should you leave?
But how do you leave

someone you care about?
You feel the barbs
of your love cut

in your happiness
You feel the pain
of the abrasions

the pain under the blood
of your partner
What can you do

to make it better
if it doesn't fit anymore
what you can give each other?

There are limits to love
to what your love can do
if there is no bed

in which it can flow
so it dries out and
your life withers

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

The night-light is still on
we're on the bed, we look
at each other and we look away

Our words are unsure
so nude
that they can't lie

but speaking the truth
is too difficult, oh
we've each other

discovered already, up
to the limit of our shame
not for the ordinariness

of our bodies
impatience, disinterest
and lazy ignorance

but for denying
that we do not meet
our ideals

How can I more closely
make you feel in the dark
that it's good with us anyway?

Love is a choice
you want to be with someone
you want to care and pamper

Love gives you strength
gives you a wonderful feeling
that is love and love

cannot be dissolved
it is not a contract
no one can break it

it is not a promise
love is every day
your choice

to connect
with the familiar unknown
wonder of the other

and to experience together
a little of the universe
of love

He said sweet things

to make me think
he loved me and I
was very special to him

I was so young –
available, in his eyes
and in his hands

At first sweet, so sweet
but a game
that had nothing to do with me

We shared a secret
he said, and I doubted
until I no longer knew

I hoped to escape
the familiar intimacy
I dreamed of love

I don't have to think of you
You already had someone else
and it is worse to know that now
than at the time it started

You were having a great time
and didn't miss me
She was desirable
and I was just there

until you left after all
and left me the fantasies
how things might have gone
differently

You are with hér, but
with my eyes closed
I feel your warmth

in the seat next to me
and not the pain of being
not good enough for you

softer the light falls
on our years, spreading
into the future

I'm dining with a friend
she has gone through it
and says that I'm great

sweet and nice and too good
for men, they are not like us
which unfortunately is so attractive

I don't dare to stay with her
for the night, to lie against her
but she knows what I need

After school, the guests come
we receive them in nice clothes
- first, take a bath

then help the men in their room
changing their clothes
- we are strict

as a sweet mama
and show with a smile how to do it
- it's a game

of glee in our inn
where the birds are colourful and sing
- madam sets the tone

and my sisters teach me the tricks
of tempering and dreaming aloud
- the alluring

but I am decent, I sleep in my bed
every night without someone else
- until I marry

a man whom I don't give a chance
to tear up my heart
- not even a little bite

Loves for which there is no time
no opportunity, or thoughtlessness
that thinks anything is possible

if we don't reject it
and make it complicated
whereas it is simply love

a caress of attention
the pleasure of contact
kisses, no tears

of missing and sadness
for impossible joy
cried in silence

filling a bath that is
taken and replenished daily
to feel the love

of which we overflow
without letting it flow
where it wants to go

Because you like to watch
I tie you
to your desire

We are not at home
others peek with you
along the pillars

I know it unseen
blind because of the towel
with which I dry my hair

on the terrace for beautiful people
in the middle of the town, where beauty
gathers in the theatres for everything

that people are capable of
on the edge of reality
and their unbridled imagination

captured like you, your eyes
and hands, by almost
touchable perfection

She lets me look at myself
in her swimming look
slowly up and down
over my body, from the cold
bare feet to confused hair

Straight shoulders, pulled
backwards by the tape
which binds the elbows
on my back, a clear view
of underwear and goose bumps

I exist, I feel myself
in the draught of the basement
in the high mirror next to her
and in the lust of her power

Her eyes press and pinch
in my chubbiness, they bite
into my breasts and the tip
of her tongue licks my groins

Boys are Different, exciting
to get to know, certainly
the exotic characters

I collide with them until I can
make a breach here and there
a peep-in, discover something

and assimilate it
while I am watching how he
tastes small bites from me

We change, irrevocably
we bridge differences and understand
each other in fewer words

That is the danger
It starts with a subject
about which we think so differently

that we avoid it from then on
and we pass more gorges
gradually not discussable holes

in familiar ground
which is no longer Different
but so domestic that we

don't even seem
to share it
and no longer can fit the pieces

As if I mocked him
or Love, so wounded
he dreams me

on swift legs
a doe-woman
without bow and arrow

graceful, and shy
slender, and modest
wise, but a woman

subject
to his desire
to possess

my desires
sharp in view
as I run, longingly

looking at him, panting
entangled in his hands
until he is satisfied

You disappointed us
your parents, your brothers
everyone who cared for you

You were privileged, but now
you get another room
We will help you

No, you can't see them anymore
you know that very well
You are not pure

for the Holy House
You're already forgotten
You've never been there

Nobody knows you
Your life begins here
You have to prepare yourself

You have to learn the rules
After giving birth you will
work to wash yourself

the baby's blood
and the shame
clean

What year are we living in?
Is that song banned?
Shunned? Forgotten?
Is it that time yet?

Do men have better judgement?
Are they less fickle?
So women won't have to
be any more?

Don't they play
king and duke
like boys anymore?
Don't they brag

about conquests anymore
laughing at the jester
who says it's not funny?
La donna è mobile?

It is not just about us
it is about everyone's vow, which
sometimes shortly, sometimes years
after the feast

does not always seem to apply
but, as one grows older
regains its strength
in the smell

of the eternal fields
wafting towards you at the graves -
the smell of alarm
that brings me to my senses

after your futile waiting
for my love while
I was far outside the light
with another

not with you
not at home
not with the children
not even with myself

Poems are the word
and in the word is light
the light of life
the life of love

and now that it is
getting dark, it shines
just as brightly again
as when we got married

as if spring suddenly returns
in the moment between the flash
and the thunderclap, a foal
throws up its legs

it is blossoming for us again
and we are immortal as lovers
With fireflies, the light
of our wedding returns to our lives

I experience ancient statues
structures, and drawings
as a mystery:

that they could make this!
And the people of those times
thought the same way

that it was almost divine
But the creators had to
forgo the highest praise

lest they be punished
by a jealous deity
challenging them

and making them suffer
even in love, the faithful love
that most gods do not know

and that they do not give to others
because human happiness in love
would make themselves superfluous

In the kitchen, you put
some water on, set out cups
the kettle sings, the tea smells
and I look around, stroking
the velvet of the couch

thinking of the smooth sheet
on your bed, of the softness
of your mattress and my body
stretched out on it
naked as my hand

If only it doesn't happen
that you fall in love with me
and we let yourself go
in feelings that
will end our friendship

We've known each other for a long time
You know who I am
when you come into me
to be, to be
my home

Being on everybody's tongue and being
furtively watched by the prettiest girls
is the advantage of boys
who work their way up laughing

at the expense of the concern
of their former friends
who do not understand
the betrayal and withdraw

in a hurt longing
for the former intimacy
(Some guys exaggerate
  their toughness, they overshoot

  the mark, so
  that everyone suffers
  a loss, no
  a person can't be worse)

In amazement have I seen your face
You seemed to be so different today
Your ears deaf
your eyes closed
an empty mouth
with hollow words
and no one listening

But it really was you
Bye loved one that you were
I leave you over there
beyond the broken bridge

No use in talking, or shouting
There is a lively road
ahead of me, for me
a one-way street
of gladly being alone
free in my heart and
free in what I do

Then you want to run away
let me feel for hours
that I'm very, well
as if you are right

You tear yourself loose, always stronger
always lingering at the door
sometimes I get ahead of you
throw me on your williewo

ride Rodeo on your chest
cuddling and massaging
until you give in
and I can present myself

as a mirror
of who you also are
so that we can escape
our loneliness

I looked at his hands
as if there was blood on them
and I cursed him
He stayed calm and read

in my eyes the shape
that he had to put on
to win me
His amorousness pushed boundaries

We had long conversations
and made future
plans for the world
as it should be

with us shining in the middle
as a sun that doesn't need to
be applauded, but simply exists
to share richly what it has

The planets follow their orbits
understanding and friendship drop down
and our hands do the work
Sometimes bleeding