Stepping into the House of Silence

This notebook holds magic, you know?
Once you start typing
hours can touch you, flow through you,
the mind cooled like river water.

When—in cold air
trembling takes hold inside my chest,
countless times my written words
embrace you,
they belong only to you.

I don't have such powers, of course,
yet my poems somehow...
break all rules and crash against your heart.

Only in these moments of writing
do I keep thinking—
right now no one in this world
is happier than I am.

This is how I enter the house of silence...
holding your hand.
Why am I so helpless, can you tell me?

Even the moment of drawing you near
seems to betray me—
what are you thinking so deeply?

Even at parting, you remain lost
in thoughts of me.