they are cleansing the room
they are cleansing the streets
cleansing the windows
throwing up the notebooks
they want everything to be clear

try to stay in my mind
to see there, to pick misery
how should i be a little bit more more blind to
cleanse that too?
cleanse that too?

it’s like on my imaginary skin
i’m having a thousand tattoos:
i do wanna be – i cannot be –
i’m just being to
have a little a bit more space for you

it’s not even you
it’s an endless mirror
all made up of reflections
i wonder if we could
arrive to our real hands
arrive to our real heart
and give a hug for each other

– and then we could just simply part.