Words (fable)

I need a mountain.
And if you are not a mountain, you must be a bear. But then again: what do I do when you hibernate? So if you are a bear, you must be a singer as well so that you can sing me to that deep, long sleep of yours. I think I could be cool with that. Only Singing Bears belong in a circus, don't they? I might laugh and I think one should be careful with that kind of laughter.
Maybe it really is the ever so smart and courageous rat I need, while dreaming of mountains and bears. I did tell you about the rat that came into the house the other night, didn't I? I sat by the table, writing one of my pieces and something touched my food. I thought it was the dog obviously, so I bent down to stroke it. And there it was looking curiously at me. I jumbed up, yelled and hurled, as you can imagine, and slung my flip-flop after it. Then it ran off. But do you know what? It stopped at the mat, turned around and looked at me again. It wasn't the slightest upset with any of it.

To be in position for a kiss

- You are a beautiful man, I said.
You glanced at me. We were no more than a meter from each other but in the sea where distances are something else. We were swimming. Nobody swims together.
- You say that every time, we've argued, you said.
But you are beautiful and it does make you happy when I tell you.
- Do I?
Maybe I did and maybe you think it's to soften you? Maybe. Before that there is the need for finding you beautiful again.  So I look for it. Because when we argue your eyes are just eyes, even your mouth is just a mouth and I can be looked at by you, but I can't be kissed.

Words (lie)

What a sword!
As children we were caught in lies. Like thieves in robbery, dogs in mating. Parents denounced their own sons and daughters if they lied. We all lied, mainly because we didn't dare the truth. Its consequenses. After all a lie gave you a fair chance of survival. Not all lies were revealed, in fact surprisingly few. Each unrevealed lie became a little metal chip in your mind. Not devastating, just a potential disturbance. You never knew. The liar never knows, is never perfectly safe. Sometimes we forgot why the lie seemed the only way out and how many days of judgment we saved ourselves.

Words (skin, fan, fever)

I'm covered by fever, I have a blanket under my skin, it electrifies me like your tongue sometimes do when you extend me and I become my sex, or yours. I'm too heavy to move yet weightless in the thought, deliberated from everything beyond this calm downstream of skin. The fan is all the sky I need. What a breeze.

Words (passport)

We are queued up in front of the glass cages. Equal, no one can escape this line, no one who wants to enter a country. As that is why we are here, to enter a country, we are equal for a while. We carry our plastic bags, our Vuittons, our wallits and glasses, our babies, our sorrows, impatience and passports. And then, much later, it's our turn, we differ from each other, we belong to a country, or a country belongs to us, in front of some glass cages so much easier to be Danish than South African. So much more complicated to be West Indien than British in front of others. A mother is tired. I hold her child. No idea where they come from. The little girl is not quite old enough to hold her head, so we hold it for her, no one would let it fall. Would I lie for my country? Would I die for my country? Would I let a head fall before it could hold itself, for my country? Soon it's my turn. I give the baby back.