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by Birgitta Jonsdottir

I walked the valley of shadow
touched faces
of fear with eager hands
eagle heart

your words
tasted deliciously tender
during that night
swelling hopes
about nothing

I am the spell maker
you the riddle maker

about nothing

at the end of the tunnel
I see light swirling
slowly
with a hint of blue

I am crawling into the abyss
the walls are slippery
all around me I sense
hot breath gigantic hands

they fall out of the tunnel one by one
if they sink or swim
I do not know

swiftness the stained cards kept whispering

into nothing

yet thinking of those words
flowing from your face
that taste of nothing in my mouth

my heart misses a beat

and I am thinking
nothing
but
you