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When we entered your room the light had already gone out. Only the display of your iMacs illuminated a tiny angle of the room. The angle, in that your bed stood - and you had six of them. We let ourselves fall backwards on the matress and stared on the slat rust of the upper high bed, just like "fresh" lovers stare on the night sky. Chewing gums instead of stars. We turned to the side and looked deeply inside our eyes, When you snuggeled up at me, the small clever man that lives in the rear chamber of my head, climbed down the many stairways to the ear shel, slipped onto the matress on the sleeve and left the room through the door opening.
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- 7 Mai 2008 19:45