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
