you've always kept me
in the storm,
thunder and lightning,
being torn,
in this rollercoaster
of feelings.
going
back and forth
from the zenith
to my nadir
back in heights,
again.
this strikes
me:
from bottom to top,
you get fucked,
a lot.

this morning,
climbing down the stairs,
felt rather different,
'cause I remembered
our talk,
last night.

(the paradox of going down for a climax)

in a glimpse,
all of it happened,
before my eyes:

the doorbell rang.
you were at the door.
my feet were cold.
your warm heart.
step by step.
up the stairs.
my hands, all over you.
closed eyes, in trance.
trembling lips, in touch.
heart beating,
always ascending,
coliding into
what, in my whishing,
was meant to be.

now,
still waking up,
I leave the house,
but home is within me,
in my smile that can't be,
unreal.
I leave the house,
but home is within me,
in your perfume I carry,
in my hands.

love,
don't you dare leaving,
without promising,
that you came,
to me,
to stay.