Farewell …

Your mouth is a projector
constantly creating, maintaining
a wall of words
between us;
unlike a wall of stones or bricks
it is moving, changing
and will vanish if you‘re silent

the words
projected from your mouth
fall, piece after piece
on top of the just spoken
overlying the ones before
like pieces in a Tetris game

the words keep falling
I have to see them, catch them
turn them, move them
to put them into place
adapt them
to what I have built with the previous ones
don‘t miss them, let them fall:

the words keep falling
the walls keeps growing
layer over layer

and I feel
I can‘t do much
but react

Because I don‘t have the right kind of pieces to contribute
or because the speed is taking all my attention
and because I‘m trying to put them together
I want the words to show me their meaning and where the pieces connect to each other

So, like the famous Tetris melody
no one is able to forget, once heard,
the wall of words
your mouth projects
is still with me
when you are no longer
I can still see_hear_feel it
after hours and days
when I gave all my attention to this
like listening to a mantra

I was able to put a lot of pieces into place:
like each blinking-disappearing layer
is a moment of joy and feeding eagerness,
I curiously withdraw layer after layer
of the greater story, of the many stories

Yet some pieces fell apart
I couldn‘t turn them the way I wanted
or decided to leave them
to stay focused

I‘ve always been a lover to words
the times when you stopped
maintaining this wall
and it vanished
were the ones
I felt closer to you

Fewer words
and silence
gave me space
to be there
as much as you were

the chance to act
if I wanted

A gaze without words
the possibility of being seen
not as an audience
but myself;

no frame set,
to evolve

being present
being open

These are the moments
I will remember
in my heart


I‘m pretty sure you wouldn‘t approve much of this.
There’s no structure of argumentation.
No deep philosophy.
Not even good poetry.
Nor barricades; hm, well, in a way it’s also about barricades.
This is subjective.
This is my space.
Maybe my wall of words.

I‘m almost sure you‘re not gonna read this.
But if you do: send me the Tetris melody.
It will make me smile.