... she | final version

When she knocks on the door she shrinks so
closes on the inside brimming with memories
of the boys from the playground pulling on her plaits
I almost have to kneel down in order to break
under her eyelids and eyelashes and find a person

in the morning
I brew her some coffee add some milk

since dawn she's been trying to get like me
putting on more and more flowery blouses
I will not tell her that this is under the blouse
and further on
under the skin
under the skeleton of the muscles
and back in the brains
where the secret is hidden

in the evening
I brew her some coffee add some milk

every day we read overselves over and over again
and more and more distant our mugs on the table