Though I want you, though you want me, nothing cancome of it,
to the main mast we are tied fast.
With your arms in the air, alone, you're dancing,
and you bind me and unbind me and always you trick me.
On feet drunken and without high heels
in a play without an ending you are always rehearsing.
Though I want you, though you want me, nothing can come of it,
to the main mast we are tied.
With your arms raised high, you want reach for somewhere,
an invisible ribbon you are stretching to catch.
With your eyes closed you look through me
like a wide open book you are reading me.