de L'Arylequine

hans hartung

i made you by touching
the inner of your thighs
until i could feel
the little birth mark from the side of your left

i made you

by telling you every day
how my ears
ache for your soothing whisper
and how the cuts heal better
at the touch of your lips.

i made you

by reminding you
how much greatness you can achieve.
by letting you set things on fire
(including myself)

i made you
while counting your ribs
and memorizing the shape of your core
and the order of the marks from your chest.

i made you

by telling you things
impulsive, silly thoughts
and dreams
and wishes;
sometimes they were whispers,
other times they were secreams
into the pitch night.

i made you
by letting you touch my soul

but you never let me touch yours.
and i do not know what hurts more;
or the fact that i moulded you
like fire does with wood.

(photo Hans Hartung)