The Road Back to You

When did the scent of your body become dearer to me than you yourself! Gradually you bound me in invisible tremors—this was the very fear I had felt. In both love and fear, we encounter the same kind of anxiety.

You will find nothing by touching me, yet because you have touched my writings, they have become so meaningful. "How am I?"—I don't know what to say in answer to this question.

"Tell me, if you spoke with memory every day, how would you be?" My tears are terribly clouded without your touch. In restlessness I touched your fingers; imagination whispered that in this moment your sufferings are entirely mine, in your embrace the shadow of my slightly warm lips deepened.

"Can we come closer?"—the sharp ache inside my chest suddenly grew in such futile fantasy.

Without waiting for a reply, I began to lose myself in the restlessness of your breathing.

My feelings started back a little! Unknowingly I had come close to your soul. I could only not tell you—that without you, I have nowhere else to go.