Belated Efforts

Let the black cloud come. Let it pitch its tent — a cold, dark shadow — over my house. Let this hammer drive nails, fix thick boards behind my window. Let the welding machine melt iron into the keyholes of my door... Leaning against the safe wall, we laugh softly at the late, fruitless efforts of the obstacles, at the efforts of the straw borders we laugh, arms around each other’s necks, closer to each other than ever: — like a message in a safe, sealed bottle — — on a clear sea, as if a sea of tears. — here, here, under my skin, in my heart...