On the end of any other song (but this)

This is the ancient rooftop
and so this is me.

To Dance - says the rooftop-
is waaaay out of bounds.
No more dancing - life agrees -
Chill.
Commit.

But then again
here comes myself
and so comes this complying moon.
Dance -she says-
Please,
dance some more.

Yet neither me
or the rooftops
or the rebelious moonlight
are (were)
even
listening.

I could have sworn it was me
yes,
right when i stepped out of the labyrinth
only to look up, right in the middle of the sky
and cried myself out.
I fucking swear.
It was me.
Just me.


I saw them.
Each and everyone of them:
The clouds, the rain, the stupidly belligerant wind
and with the wind i also saw your mouth
yes, all of them, all together
crashing in, only to move over
almost immediatly

And I thanked you.
And you don't even know how much.
And i
still
thank you.

"Make way for mrs. moondance"
And so you did.

Couldn't have been a greater good-bye.
Couldn't have been more perfect.
Should not.
Will not.
Never again.

All this moon
All this anxiety
All this hunger
making way
- in such an innocent shape-
to this restless
to this deep and tremendous piece of sorrow
which merely happens to be
so unable to find
a decent (oh, let's not say decent, let's just say right)

a right
the right
place
to rest
within my soul.
Or yours.
Or anyone's.

Gotta sleep.