Poetry

The time has rushed by, love.
I have forgotten how we once were
there is something different when we go to bed
and it’s as if everything has been said,
 
as if no words can ever again
be spoken as we once did
and you will never again
lie hot with you body against mine
as if sheltering against life
 
and the strong wind from outside
is rattling at the windowpanes
as if still searching, trying to find something
or maybe to come in
and even it passes, passes me by
 
but there is something different to everything
a special kind of feeling
as if still closer and closer we do bond
as if even arguments and heartache
does not their toll take.