Here comes tomorrow.
You can’t recongize yourself in the mirror.
It’s time for the climb, to get over your sorrow.
And that’s when you meet him.
You didn’t ask him your hope to feed, –
Breaking his own body, he hands it to you as meat.
Before the climb you didn’t ask him to share his view, –
he hands his whole volume, brings his ethos through.
You promised to be his sister, his own well –
he doesn’t even blink as you break the sworn spell.
You promised to give him the stars of the sky, –
he wipes away all of your promises with a smile.
The myrrh and tamarisk are shattered by the storm.
The fresh young leaves die away, greens into pieces are torn.
Nobody sees it, the world outside is humbly ticking.
It’s only a broken piece of glass to them. As if nothing…
Now here you are, together, you’re happy as a broken line.
No permission needed, no questions asked whether you’re fine.
You didn’t ask him your hope to feed
before the climb – he himself is the wine ready to bleed.