moon

the moon still full at night, so beautiful shining from behind and between the clouds,
still snow in the garden, and this morning is foggy.
the full moon disturbs my sleep, gives my heart another rhythm, beats i don't know, makes my blood rise, my mind run and my dreams weird, and my troubled soul let me not sleep most of this night.
i woke shivering, trying to move, as if fixed with sticky tape around my arm,
and a woman crept softly in my bed, put her hand around my  waist, who?
- when i turned nobody was there.
i got up out of my warm blanket, and for solace i ate bread with honey. it was good.

my house looks like a battlefield, dismantled furniture  leaning on empty walls, boxes of books
taking so much space that it is hard finding a passage.
and still so much collected past in these rooms.
all i do not need, i try to find out, and i move it in the courtyard,
maybe somebody will take the burden
as a gift, but up to now even the space outside fills with the shame of possession.
how did i come to be so filled with things?

i was born naked, and i will die naked.
it is best to live naked. i try.

and i will move away far to live and to die, near the sea,
in another country where i have no name yet,
leaving things and definitions.
i go for listening, deep listening.

moon, you can go, you make me restless.
come again another time, you will.