I awake with a start, from the heat
as if you were lying heavy on me

I don't make a sound, sleepily I turn
the duvet down. You are not here

The door is locked
it's quiet in the house

I think of Missy in the other room
see her eyes light up in the basket

pricked up at the slightest sound
I make, a sigh

turning my pillow over
the thought of a caress

Being in love may be enough
care and company, I can organise

I shouldn't want everything
and yet I must, I want to

give myself everything
as much as possible

Depilated from inside
opened and closed around
the navel, the core
of the beauty of the body
and the pearl in my scar

Cherish me, cherish me
let me feel and feel
that you are there, you are there

It is not my skin that I soften
in the bath, it is my muscles
and my soul, warm and supple
they must be to myself
to keep myself together

Cherish me, cherish me
let me feel and feel
that you are there, you are there

How much inner, how much
internal fight do I yet have
ahead, how much injury
to suffer before I can't
don't want to, will not go on?

Cherish me, cherish me
let me feel and feel
that you are there, you are there

When I want to know something, I call

someone from the explanation folks
Strangers are my interpreters
and my guides in the web

Be my brother, my sister
give me a real kiss
We are family, we are birds

of a feather, we fly together
over the net that binds us
to what we know

: our golden rule
Hand In Hand, Have Trust
in yourself and in the things you do

Circumstances, difficulties, and
your behaviour lately, I don't know
myself that way

although I can see better
who I am, and you, we
and how things are going

Unsolicited, I just have to
make the best
of it again

What else?
Two, three things
now you that you ask

If it's possible
And then make the best of it
together

Ignorant, I felt confident
but since her later is earlier
than we thought when we signed
it suddenly comes

down to every ordinary day
to what is keeping me
from being nice to her

the love of my Yes
I do

I hesitate to repeat that
Her condition, our problems
I must knowingly forget
to be able to live

ordinary days, in love
with the promising incertainties
in the hands of the filly

of my Yes
I do

As long as the paint is wet
my finger writes
my diary
in colourful blends

Unspoken questions
dipped hue after hue
and curl in curl on the tip
of my finger, layer on layer

a gobstopper of memories
which I slowly lick off, every time
I want to taste their flavours
and reread my life

My diary is too honest
to keep, what's the sense

in reading myself unhappy
and puzzling my head off
over covered terms, peering

what yet can be seen
through the frosted glass, shadows
which I trace with clear lines

of later. It easily looks
like real, a few lines are enough
for a snowy landscape

that I can make thaw
by continuing to draw:
another page, another day

written to my life
blossoms written
on my path full of thorns

in the ghost house
of my body

My diary is too honest
for your eyes, what's the sense

in reading yourself unhappy
when I'm not there anymore
You may comfort yourself

with my serial of love
and connection, the odours
of the colourful life

I want to extend with might
and main, but you also know
that there's a sword beside me

that I go crazy because of the witches
in my body and the ghosts
in my head writing clauses

in the margins and notches
in your speechless soul
in our eternal love

in who we are

In veils of uncertainty
I stand on my balcony
the stones lose colour

turn grey behind a shower
and sink in the shadow
of black clouds, I'm waiting

for steaming clearances
that shoot colours again
in my quiet house

     The day has a lot of time
     and all that time I'm standing here tired
     working hard, bouncing

     emotions back and forth
     between all and nothing, bundling them
     one by one in the prism

     of my heart and scattering
     their colours far outside me, and then
     crystal clear silence

Resting without loss of time
jumping around, eating
experiences, Always Sunday

Tasting together, and digesting
by the light of the moon, even
if it does not interest you

The days are too short
in winter it is cold
in summer it's still light
when I have to go

to sleep (yet, regardless
of the consequences
we make exceptions)
Always Sunday

Miss Ting wants to go into the world
house and balcony are too small
bird watching is frustratingly pleasant
and playing and twirling with us
isn't ít, we know, so small
are our leaps and vocabulary

Miss Ting sings My Man
She mews the world upside down
for Maurice Chevalier, the king
of Spain and the princes
of India and England, laughing
she plays with their crowns

Her Man, she cannot live without
He is in her skin, on her knees
she would come back if she went

because he growls and claws at her
and secretly attends his darlings
Oh, his strength keeps vibrating
in every hair she loses
glowing in her, on the edge
of every cell of bliss

Sipping warmth
looking out from my balcony
The flux-skies

Red geraniums, the full weight
of my soul resting on the earth
Sensual of well-being

my voice strolls and tells
it to a friend, andante
The music that I am

Then at the table
the pencils arranged
I draw in silence

absorbed in it, smiling
at the rainbow fan
of dry paintbrushes

little brush tails, small
penises in my sleigh of hand
(easy going)

I give myself
to be read

that's an act
not a desire

it is surrender
not fearing danger

it is sharing and healing
who we are

releasing together
what is stuck

a bond
of freedom

The dragon is hungry, biting
away my resistance, eating
my powers, sweet-I

is falling apart –
it just happens
and it hurts

I fight it with dragon-
killers, they do their best
my love runs back and forth

between other fronts
he doesn't tempt me
to what I need

what we could
draw a banning circle
so I just

retreat, observe where
in my battered inside
the dragon is roaring

for attention and love
for my best self
to be exposed

It's only the third day
I keep thinking, and also that
this doesn't bring me anything

My breath does, and the peace
since, for the time being, there’s nothing
to do about the facts of blood

stone, iron, the elements
of the periodic table
nothing to do, only to think

And that may be a bit less
the weighing and determining
of my advancing insight

what is good for me
in the attacks of chaos
and panic, only to think

of myself
as the creator
of my life

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

All the little shutters opened up
feeling what is going on
in the twilight
within me

not fantasizing
feeling what is going on
outside, over there, a farewell
their arms around each other

and all the way long
my legs are tired
from the runner who smiles
at the happy woman

tears in my eyes
over the baby in her pram
it is getting dark
my window a mirror

in which my preliminary self
asks for love
for my marriage
under construction

and for my body
oh mirror image
I love you
I do what I can

You on your balcony
with a memory
a sweet memory
a sweet night, silence
you on the balcony, I in the room

dusky mists a glow
over the city, like then

when you woke up from the high
numb and clammy
a few men still
fishing, the scent
of the wide small world

of ground fog, that atmosphere
just stepping over all the years
from that grass to this balcony
a memory to share
over all the daily worries

I know too many people, seriously
I am very, very busy

calling them and having tea together
it can not be done, my day

is too short and life is sand
leaking out of my hand

Of course, I must not clench
it is only an illusion

hiding that I am lying
in the body of the earth

breathing in her lungs
and eating in her belly

flowing in her existence
with my love, my lover and my friends

together, wherever we are
at the same time fully conscious

that the weeks are running through the years
and the years through our lives

Everything has already been said
you long for good times
just like me
     Do you want to leave
     and sleep with friends?

You are afraid
it's not gonna be OK
you wouldn't know how
     Your face says: leave me
     alone for a while

Stay, we are married
to have contact
that is normal
     an intimate harmony
     of your and my normal

We still discover pieces
of the world together
and new bits of ourselves
     we still can continue
     to grow together

I want to be welcome
with you, seriously
not just saying nice words
     without talking
     about what we have promised

I want more tenderness
than the pampering baths
of impetuous energy
     I want our love
     not to be jammed

in unreachable places

We are honest
we keep the game going
with serious faces
without playing that we play

We say out loud that
our expectations are fighting
with the facts we say

we accept
and we warily search
in each other for solid ground
for our loose anchors

The mantle of the ropes
that connect us, is being
scraped to shreds
and we warily search

under water
for places to grow
from and with each other

for our adventure threatens
to get stuck in inability
like a project in a final phase
without end

Sometimes I determine
the right moment myself, thinking

I know enough, but often I am surprised
by what comes from heaven

exactly at the moment
when I open my eyes

     I look in the envelope
     which half concealed

     is waiting for my unconscious
     knowing of the right moment

     to read what now
     is meaningful to me

If only I could stand above myself
to see the information flow

to behold and admire
the coils of the channels

from the universe in my body
and to understand and enjoy

life, that sometimes lies
waiting in my consciousness

as poste restante

I can do anything to myself
get me stuck in dilemmas
ponder myself sick, activate me
or do nothing and wait
alternately on the couch, my bed
or hanging in the garden
between oak and lime

I can worry
about my health
and you, endlessly
make considerations
and decisions

     At least, if that is true
     because thinking is re-
     flecting, chasing after
     the events, telling myself

     that I have control over myself
     that I can make plans
     about my work and my life
     with you, now that everything changes

     and yet later will turn out
     to have stayed almost the same
     but then without this job
     and without you, only

     the transition is uneasy

I am shocked by the question
to myself: who will comfort me?
Where are the arms

that rock me happy
and promise me a bright future?
With whom will I be safe?

     Come on girl, there is more
     under the sun, it shines
     look around you, smell
     the weather, you have your nose

     your eyes, ears, and mouth
     and your hands of course
     not just for the love
     of a man, of a child

But the world is so big
I want someone
for myself, a home

where I recharge
I want someone
to embrace, four arms

that feel together
that I am a woman
to love

I look sideways at the flowers
I picked in the woods this morning
they stretch in the warmth
of my bedroom

outside, the rain rustles
over the traffic, the city
hidden behind the soft wall
of the curtains

the light from the clouds
shines broadly around
the candles on the plates
on the floor next to my bed

my skin is showered smooth
I brush the downy hair
this is me, to be loved
and coddled

I stroke my heart
it is not arousing
to whisper to myself
I love you

I stretch and pile pillows
under my buttocks, what shall I
fantasize, here I lie
as a queen

I want to know
you, I want to help
you, I love you
Talk to me

What is the problem?
You make a mess in the house
You are sabotaging our agreements
and your promises

I am not being difficult
I am making an effort
I want you
close to me, we can

have fun together, why are you hiding?
Are you concealing something?
Be a man, I want to
be sure that I can trust you

When the sun does not yet give warmth
I get up with the duvet around me
and half behind the curtain I look
down the street, the first people

don't go anywhere, around the block
with dogs that follow scents
I always find it scary
whether they want to bite me

Again I think of you, of the hours
in which I was waiting for you
in the windowsill half behind the curtain
between reproach and longing
looking down the street

I look at the dogs and I look
at my empty hands
my legally empty hands
unharmed, nothing to tell

You only bit yourself out
of my bare heart
It is cold
I pull the duvet over me

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

Come on, this is our own movie
we'll do another take
I think at night

after peeing, back in bed
I keep redoing it
but you don't participate

and just lie there
sleeping the sleep
that I need so badly

I don't want to flee
but make an effort, fight
for who we can be

and yet I get cold
from you, I freeze
from fear I don't know

My heartbeat, the sparks
of desire do not skip
over

My thoughts come
from outside, not from within

They find their way
from my eyes, ears, nose, tongue
and hands, and seek
a place in my brain
among the perceptions

that came in earlier
Together they form an idea
of who I am, an
empirical device
that remembers what it experiences

and has feelings with it
satisfaction, happiness, joy
anger, sadness, fear
exactly as it has learned
from the outside world

I think, therefore I am
capable of noticing the difference

between judgmental thoughts and
feelings, which lock me
in old experiences
when I am angry again
sad again, afraid again

and others, which connect me
with everything around me
despite everything
I have learned
I have learned that, too

After jumping, I am now learning
the silent steps
between tears and laughter
with regular partners, dancing

around what is not possible
and what I miss
in my fantasy
and my desire

Sometimes I cry about it
What went wrong
is over, what can be
is limited

What I do must
not be a repetition
I practise new steps
on unfamiliar floors

I know the names
and some pictures

of your friends, unfamiliarly
we would greet each other

there are no words
to share your wonder

We want to, but we can't
explain, we don't want to explain

because already while conceiving
every onset misses your essence

I have to accept
to be confused

struck
every time, and forever

you are wherever
on my mind

I write my life
book, not on paper
In many heads

I record who I am
and what I experience, just like you
I forget the future

There is no death in me
Hormones run off and on
Cell growers renew me

I don't smell of decay
Only of cheerfulness
and my desire

to live untroubled
in a home without worries
with pussy-cat and orphan plants

my heart full of garlands
scenting of contact
and gently touching you

to be touched
by your hands
by your attention

Today you are touchably
close to me, your scent
a cheek against my cheek
our hands free

upon each other's warmth
friendship feels like that
without words
without question

There is always so much
to share, so much
that we know and do not dare
to know, do not dare to despair

It's still going well
enough, we want to
keep it, keep on
repeating it

our arms tight around
each other, around the skin
the blood and the bones
of our souls

Listen, follow my words
maybe they'll open you
to the Big Secret

and anchor it
in your mind, the gravity
of it in your heart, a sense

of what life is, your
life on planet earth
People in love know it

for a while, while it lasts
It changes everything
you do, everything you see

The world and you adjust
easily and by themselves
Osmoses over and back

free from friction and irritations
of your skin, that flow the bittersweet
out of you and into you

I want to belong
just
laugh together
and keep talking

whisper in the warmth
of each other's blood
safe in the insecurity
of life

that hits friends and takes them away
from the chain dance -- to the last
we hold them
hand in hand

I don't lock me up
in guarantees and fear
I bump and dent me outside
in the storm, together

with warriors
who do not hide
from the fate of others
because they belong

Through the shadowy grey
of who what when
the mornings are fuzzy

green of visitors that will dance
and laugh, tell stories
with many gestures

and always find a reason
to touch me and embrace
me intimately

It's all, but not enough
I don't want to
crawl away in my hole yet

Could I only hide
like the sun
and appear again

with wagtails in the garden
and playing children
outside

Do I want him

to dive into my bed sometimes
sometimes not, like an angel --
his wings ready to go?

exactly as I wish
exactly like a man
an experienced lover

who doesn't have to breathe
because he is an angel --
he doesn't smell odours

Perhaps it works
with my new wand
to make a hatch

or folding doors in the sky
something that I can open myself
as a sign: Come! Go!

Or do I want him to stay
and be with me, sometimes as a friend
sometimes as a lover, sometimes as an angel?

It started so well -
a certain recognition
of pain and the promise

of a helping hand
a Happy Ending
of maturity

and we gave each other
what our home should have been
when we were young

But it didn't stay private
not just between the two of us
our love too

became to be a civil status
which makes everything concrete
more than an act, love act

more concrete than mutual
understanding, and you, you!
don't understand that!

he cried, helpless
and little and unfoldable
and pulling faces

which wordlessly utter curses
because of something from the past
that he would like

to prove, something
with which fate did not help him
something I should wait for

Only later I could
play without acting
play the leading role
in my life, my destiny

presorted or coincidental
bad luck on the inside
of my desirable body
loved

without lasting interest
in me, my presence
my desirous spirit
that lay awake

from them, their dreams
which I could not follow
which spurned me
afraid

of the effort that it takes
to change and
not to continue to press
the bruises

Only experiences count
now that every day matters:
new activities
beauty to the full

and attention to me
The rest, I clear out
What I have saved for years
I throw away neatly

in wrapping paper
or I fold flowers from it
witch will get dusted
in memory

of my company
our meetings
which cannot wait
We give each other

this day, everything
that can be intimate between
people in the passing
of an ordinary day

I do the fun things
that everyone says
he'd like to do, with you
and you and you and you

Plenty of nice sweet men
but not with me, too little
is enjoyed

my body, I want to
surrender
to tough desire

romp with it, smell him
when I wake up
in the warmth of two

fitting bodies
in my bed, in my bed
in my longing

for stubble and hands
pushes in my skin
power in my flesh

glowing caresses
from a man who feels
who I am

I don't stay on the side
I like to go together, get to know
people, have confidence, share
share my life, I look
for contact and butter up
anyone who can help me

It's you who I lure closer, who I lead
to chinks which I smooth
with butter honey, slowly
I pull you through
your shirt against me
to feel that you are there

You want to, but also you don't
so you get hot and take
the shirt off from the top
(I always take the bottom)
Half naked you run away
from your expectations

In bed I think you
close to me, I am -
my shapes in your hands
and can forget for a while

My belly on the inside full
of bruises, right there
I long for you, I want to feel
you and not know an hour

Clean and fragrant from the bath
happily ever after
sucking and caressing
horsing around immortally

Do what I can do, dream
take my mind off, change
my horizon until you are here
and eat something in between

Cherish me, shelter me
embrace me with your attention
     your blood wants to
     warm me skin on skin

Peace in me, your hand radiates
from afar into my belly
     I am not alone
     not a day, not a thought

Your spiritual body is with me
your heart follows mine
     in desire
     in love

Breathe with me and come
soon to hug me
     don't postpone and come
     to me, close to me

Not grown apart
still familiar, changed
by each other's attention
Grown along in the other
in who we are

For everything
there can be a time
For slow days
For closer to home
For constantly creating order
For new projects
and old friends

Occasionally
a message
without a hold
on whether it fits
in the moment
and falls, falls
into place

Occasionally
the nearness
of our voices
our most unique selves
talking freely
with open endings
for other times

Touching with caution
warmth upon warmth
kissing hairs

nails very softly
in circles and strokes
across your back

Everything safe, breathe
Falling asleep dreamlessly
and still know it

Whatever the day was like
whatever tomorrow's
program is: caressing hand

happy back
buttocks kiss
the warm belly

My trumps played
The last ace

is not upright
Fretting how
to conjure up a handicap

from untreatableness
conjuring it up from
the marvellous world

It costs me a lot
of energy and time
in which I live little

I caress the fine decoration
of my magic wand, aim
the point at myself

Live!
what I can live, not playing all
or nothing, not losing myself

Live what I can
otherwise I won't be able
to let go

I undress and see nothing of me
in the clothes neatly laid out
next to each other to put back on

underwear is underwear, trousers trousers
if there is anything special about it
it is just that

there are no marks on it, I don't advertise
I unstitch myself free
pick the lint from my clothes

out of my navel, the belly is cool, I feel
myself, breast is breast, cheek cheek
but my belly, that's me

my hands know it
better than my eyes
that do recognise my face

as mine, everywhere
where I am, nowhere for sale
but it is veiled now

I am tired, I want rest
having nothing to do with anyone
and still

love myself