I love it that you smell of cheap perfume
and how you make bedroom eyes at everyone
you try to get close to the image in your memory
to separate into aspects all that does not exist
I haul my loneliness around like a wounded friend
and know quite well that perhaps this is a lie
i see you still naked on the bed
and want more than anything to imprison you in the room
When the middle of August comes, and by accident again
we'll meet in the early morning, alone
i'll embrace you trembling1
and you'll smile
when the middle of August comes, and by accident again
we'll meet in the early morning, alone on the Ayalon2
suddenly a huge storm will hit
love and failure
We were violent like we knew from our homes
the tongue always lightly rests on the trigger of insults
who would dare to talk to you this way today
once the plaster disintegrated from all the yelling
I tried everything in order to wean myself from you
i washed my heart in all sorts of poison
you chase after me like a ghost
as if something important had not yet been settled
When the middle of August comes...
I watched from below, verifying the rumors
two intermingled shadows scattered salt on the lie
i never told you, perhaps you get it now
the two of you and my bicycle on the porch...
1. it: i'll fall trembling onto your neck2. a highway in Tel Aviv that is never empty 24x7x364(except Yom Kippur)