looking into my life, looking into my soul without the slightest permission.
on the other hand, you have always been a trickster. i have always been a fool.
travelling light, leaving so much of my soul behind, losing so much ground
in the name of modesty, in the name of innocence.
when last was i innocent? when last was it worn by me
like a cloak against the summer rains?
this is the rain that washes al the falsities away,
this rain signifies the mud that will come,
the mud that wil capture and enslave our hearts, unjustly,
this rain will drown us in coincidence.
can we read much further into this,
into the places where others read into us and hold it against us?
tears have been welling there for a long time now,
waiting momentarily to fall
tiny ripples that spread across the surface,
clear surface that drips into the nothingness.
you are making me tremblelike a frightened leaf,
you are the things i dream about.
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