8th of September saw us packed in the 4-star hotel room.
Beyond the big Victorian windows, water and earth were dripping from the
Sky on the horizon and Sun was struggling to shine through the orgy of grey clouds.
Come on already! Maybe we catch that tram! 14, isn’t it?
Like a limping ballerina you pulled up your stockings
Now your legs became the spider web in which every look in Amsterdam Centraal
Will get trapped. A black widow, smelling of sweet and red.
From afar, Van Gogh turned his ear to us, listening.
Who would’ve seen us must’ve thought we know each other for a lifetime
Maybe we would’ve tricked them,
I knew you for a day, for a minute, for a second, for a heartbeat in the solar plexus
I knew you for a grain of sand.
Every time I discovered and rediscovered you like a history that repeats itself
Anyways,
You told me: I am ready, let’s go!
What do you think, ain’t I pretty?
Oh, how many poems I could’ve recite you then…
How many Pythia’s could foretell our future together
And how many Trojan wars I could’ve started for your love…
But everything I babbled on a monotone voice was: Don’t seek my gratification
I was a fool. I know…
To my defense I was an honest fool.
Beyond the walls of the room, seagulls were singing like Greek sirens.
The street, embroidered with train rails was stretching all the way to the horizon,
People that would never see us again, would drown us in their indifferent looks,
Van Gogh went deaf.
From afar, 14 was coming fast like an air bubble in our blood vessels.
You got your hand out of my pocket and with a smile you lit your badly rolled cigarette.
Around corners our love was spasming epileptically in the thick smoke.