WE HAVE NEVER ALWAYS

 

We have never sailed on the lake, river or floated on top of the Dead sea.
We have never been at a concert, cinema or exhibition together.
We have never said to each other: look, this is a genius picture!
We have never climbed on the top of the roof or mountain.
We have never gone around the world in the same boat.
We have never given flowers to each other or presents.
We have never felt how it’s to move on the same dance floor.
We have never licked melting ice cream together.
We have never asked much about the roots of each other.
We have never combed each other’s hair, gently and slowly.
We have never felt Tuesday, Wednesday or Thursday together.
We have never worked together, fighting with passion.
We have never been skating, skiing, running, long walking together.
We have never got lost in the forest or in the parking lot under a shopping mall.
We have never gone hunting, shooting, fishing or picking up berries.
We have never made food, coffee or tea or some other disaster.
We have never played cards or lost our last money at the casino.
We have never smoked weed, gone high with all other good or bad stuff.
We have never got dizzy, drunk or lost in the labyrinths of consciousness.
We have never called each other by phone.
 

We don’t even have each others’ telephone number.
 

So why do I feel knowing you so well?
Why do we feel knowing each other more than
thousands of years?
 

We have dived in each others’ bodies, sunbathing in each others’ heat.
We have been drawing inner maps, routes and movements.
We have seen so many pictures of moons and red sunsets.
We have climbed into each other, slipping down and starting again.
We have built a world within a world, it’s spinning in us and around us.
We have painted blue flowers on each others’ bodies.
We danced on the red bed sheet as bull and toreador changing our roles,
Dying, resurrecting, fainting again and again.
We have melted into each others’ palms, becoming teenagers.
We have common roots, past lives and some secret knowledge.
We have stroked each others’ hair with finger combs and shower brush.
We have felt Monday, Friday, Saturday and two Sundays together.
We inspired each other, weaving the carpets of words, everyday longer and bigger.
We went into the curious, spoiled, ambitious, creative, iching territories.
We got lost in each others’ forests and none of us wanted to be found.
We have gone smiling, laughing, kissing, touching and picking up pleasure berries.
We drank water, milkshakes, prosecco and some other bubbles of happiness.
We played distances and proximities, opening cards to each other
and hiding again.
We smoked each others’ lungs, went high by elevators under the ribs.
We got intoxicated and lost in the labyrinths of unconsciousness.
We know each other’s name. We know it by heart. We know, how to write it, to spell
it, to hear it, to swallow it.
It’s tattooed on each other’s skin.
It’s called: my insomnia.