When he drives me to the airport
I don’t want to enter
I want to sleep in his revolving arms
Wake up the next day
Bored, in peace and with him
I cannot escape though
From next life and my ex-decision making
All I have is to perform
My armpits must be wet right now
But are not bothersome under my jacket
The first impression always matters
And to this life I am putting up the shutters
In 4 hours and a half on the button
I am going to wear a new country coat on my skin
A new temperature
A new-born habitat
Whilst the strict and fast look is misusing evanescent images
Like a fluorescent marker misuses the lines of a book
Out of hand and out of the blue
I am supposed to keep the faith red
The role of expert who sees, forgets, bets
On the wear and tear of time
Lies on a backstage contract
Of which you may harvest an abstract truth
If only you listened to its passionate lie
Conventionality never led anyone to freedom

1 comment:

Katerina said...

Lovely and touching...xx