23 january 2024, Limburg
You should not believe me
When I murmur, that time
Will remain unhaunted,
like a language
Which cannot get lighter
When words are abundant.
Can you still remember,
when each sand grain of the hourglass, held a green sun?
I could not discern the difference between
The emerald of forest beneath
And the turquoise sky above,
The paper-thin horizon in between
Was wandering off into itself
The grass was erect, you were
Rolling over it, your white dress
soaked in green blood.
I kissed you,
a piece of ruby
Gushing, making the green breath
Of the air warm,
The milk could find its way
Through the darkness, soft and warm.
My breath entwined
With yours,
We witnessed the room between stars,
Fostered a new galaxy, dust,
Blown, roared and settled,
Uncertainly, Each sand grain, in the hourglass,
Ran its own time.