It’s night, October blows a cold wind in my bones Smelling of damp leaves and freshly picked quinces. On a tilted house 3 seagulls rest frozen Pointing north with their sharp beaks I tell you that everything is going to be alright And you believe me. We forget we want To feel safe, in truth, so we accept everything we offer Each other. Behind a cold remark I lay bare my fears: I believe in a relationship where you feel like yourself You make a small pause, you too hide behind an Approving thought. This light from the lamplight floods your big, childish eyes A lit cigarette nests between your left hand’s fingers Even the smoke hides himself in the autumnal palette. Flashing before our eyes, there’s the wish that we Should never have to think of the past Why should we dig up the dead? We’re different now, present defines us, we don’t need more. The flowing river beneath our feet looks like an old snake. A swan floats unconditionally, looking like a mole on its body. We ask each other why is she lonely? This way we show Our fears. In reality we don’t want to end up alone; World weights too heavy on a single shoulder We both know it. It’s October and it’s dark and cold and it smells of sleep everywhere. We both enter inside, not wanting anything anymore. We throw a kiss, a simulacrum of our love And your lips taste like quinces.