You say who is at the door?
I say your slave.
You say what do you want?
To see you and bow.
How long will you wait?
Until you call.
How long will you cook?
Until the resurrection.
We talk to the door.
I claim a great love and that I have given up
what the world gives to be in that love.
You say such claims require a witness.
I say, This longing, these tears.
You say, Discredited witnesses.
I say, surely not
You say who did you come with?
I say, this majestic imagination that you gave me.
Why did you come?
The musk of your wine was in the air.
What is your intention?
What you want from me?
Then you ask, Where have you been most comfortable?
In the Palace.
What did you see there?
The why so desolate?
Because all that could be taken away in a second.
Who can do that?
This clear discernment.
Where can you live safely then?
Now silence. If I tell more of this conversation,
those listening will leave themselves.
There will be no door,
no roof or window either
Image Bibbi Friman