a hand

Posted on Posted in posts
The beautiful scent of your tired body
kept me awake the whole night.
It was summer, and we went upstairs,
laying on couch.
We broke that couch
with longing and hesitation and bad timing;
we already said no
even though
the yes
was in everything around us.

You then fell asleep instantly
peacefully,
your hair was covering your face
like a dark crinkly curtain-
like a proof that you were no longer in this world.
(you never seemed to be
actually)

I grabbed your hand 
and put it over me.
I needed a hand
so i could sleep that night.

But it was the end of May
and your hand was empty
and heavy
and had nothing to say 
so i had to stay
awake all night.

Looking in the dark,
I remembered how i met you:
a tornado of flowers
shook my hand
and paused my head
for a couple of hours.

Your energy was inviting,
opening 
people around you seemed to be blossoming
as if they were flowers feeling the encouragement of light
and opening,
smiling.

We layed on the grass
between dog shit 
as we were warned.
You told me how Siberia,
and Mongolia,
Became united
by your very own steps.
We admire the sky
as it became shy
listening to you
looking at you…

Back on that couch:
I turn around,
I look at you 
and then i put my right hand 
around you:
at least one of us could sleep
that night.