Ceasefire

‘ο έρωτας του κορμιού
ο έρωτας της ψυχής
πρόσεξε μην τ’ αναμίξεις’
[‘the love of the body
the love of the soul
careful; don’t blend them’]

your face on the window
on the train
travelling at night
no-not night
late in the evening
faster and faster

rehearsing words
‘have to be witty
have to be smart’
closer and closer

for the battle
under the hill
‘bring out your sword
I’ll count up to three’
‘I don’t want to fight you- walk with me’
the streets turn
like a labyrinth
a black shadow is following
but you cannot see her
where is the end of the line?

the library
smell of rotten paper
and old books
the first light of day
déjà-vu
covered with flowers
drops of water
falling

two little bottles
a dark blue
and a white
‘don’t blend them’
too late
the colour of the sword
was now light blue

(notes for a Saturday,

borrowing from G.S. always

and the faces of the Fayum, Egypt)