The reflection in the alley window
of a sensual inundation
for me to scream like an angry serpent,
he vised me between his elbows,
stroking his own proud mane.
'You are my soulmate,'� he'd said
pressing his sweltering forehead
against mine.
'I know,'� I replied.
And in the morning the door closed,
the airport taxi drove me past
the wrought-iron fence of the churchyard,
I never heard from him again.
...

Seated in a cafe
with lingonberries and cheesebread
the wise beautiful girl
her eyelashes casting shadows
on her unsullied nordic cheeks;
later in the two-hour night
we were dancing, beads around her neck
and her snow-blonde hair.
'I can't lose you,'� she said
as she wrote my name
into her journal, that wise beautiful girl.
I never saw her again.
...

'September is a long time from now,'�
he whispered to me fervidly,
the young professor with the seductive glare
who had just revealed his
sinful intentions with me,
with his chest urging me
against the wall of his studio,
the other students passing
outside his closed door.
The stream of voices, the flux of time,
five years of maddening infatuation,
I never wanted to see him again.
...

We had arrived back from the
beach, sand-speckled memory lane.
'I love you,'� she said so boldly,
her eyes transfixed on me
from the other side of the car.
The keeper of my past,
guardian of my dancing,
barefoot, foolish heart,
she was loyal and patient
like her perennial blood-red lips;
I backed out of the driveway
with the music playing.
She never heard from me again.
...

And those hills,
those magnificant hills in the
sunset which took my childish
breath away as I gazed
and prayed for freedom;
an abandoned house
nestled in the bosom of the
outland's dried grass,
with the roof caved in and
the rusting beer cans from 1942.
My secret refuge, to mingle
with spirits of a wandering,
unknown white generation,
the ghosts with the blue sunken eyes...

I never returned.

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