another time of mourning is prepared for me,
another burial to set mee free.
too long the time that i was out,
too many circles to walk,
too much sacrifice in my life,
too many wounds and scars
which you cannot touch.
i don't want to be crucified
my only fault is desire
without which i will not live.
now it makes an uncivilized noise,
later it will be like rain and silent.
who was it then, not me,
you always looked another way.
and i felt i could not be present.
i must be somebody else.
well, i am not, and you are not.
i will bury you under stones
i will cry, i will mourn until.
i will talk to you in my mind
but i will not talk to you
nor look for you nor search
where i will send you
you can, again, not see me
until. there is no time set
for mourning, but it will
get easier with the months
and summer will come anyway
and i will die, some time,
it will be a relief
for both of us
ps:
it was you who said
one can love dead people.
this is what i will do.
