The Walk Home

It feels like spring in mid November when I pick her up
At the bus stop a few minutes before midnight the air being warm and humid
The harbor’s noise are blown towards the train station

We lived much less intensely if we feared not death

She says quoting a professor she’s just listened to

You know? All time we spend is gone the very minute
We’ve done something or another
And in the end when time is used up there’s death

All of a sudden I remember the night that I went for a short walk
For the first time only a few days after her birth

This strange sensation that all the weight inside me was gone
Is stuck in my memory as if it were only weeks ago

There seemed to be a balance disorder I felt like crying realizing that
These months had passed and from now on life would never be the same
A trivial insight that struck me with full force

Yes

Time is used up that’s for sure
(More than fifteen years to be precise)

So very often it feels as if life were a chain of
Many good-byes
Nothing but

Again I feel like crying due to her words
Can’t help it though actually
There’s no reason to cry

Because

All the time that I spend with them
All the time that brought me closer to death
Feels like a thousand lifes

 

 

 

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