המתת השור

it was as if the history of my life was coming back to me
through the same road and closing a circle
As i drove through the rain to meet him
itravelled back an instant in my life
but very quicky i knew it would not bare any difference
but nothing else than a closure

what strikes you the first time. when you come in
is the rows of books
gently arranged in bookshelves and piles
on every table every wall available
this man has read a thousand books
and this is not current for most of what constitues our crowd
when i enter a house' the walls and things speak a thousand words for me
they tell me almost evertything about its inhabitant
but wether he will give me his heart

he had made me a promise
" i will not touch unless you touch me ...i promise you..
butt he lost

everything made sense
.all went back to its place and its logic
with every word he said and every word i uttered
i know we had a thousand words to say to one another
i had thought of thse thingds for a thousand nights and a thousand thougth
and there they were again
in this younger man than me
but who had already lived it seemed a thousand lives

he had read my blog from beginning till end i was impressed and so proud
'what deos one seeks by going public " did he ask
" just that ....
and the surprising feeling that words do carry their messages
somewhere to someone
not a lonely bottle in the sea
b ut the awe of existence expressed in words
and an intimacy - an advqantage to him ...but a reading of mind
the chased and the hunter
are building a strange intimacy through the roads taken to hide and seek
what did bring the final strike thus was wthen it became clear to me
that here i am because i am a masochist
and the love of a sadist
thatr is when he slapped in the face twice hard
and brought me on the floor to his feet by my hair

end of part one