I knew it. I have known it for a while already. But even before I knew it, I was feeling it.
Though I didn’t exactly know what it was that I had been feeling.
And now you have told me.
I did not hear your words. I only saw moving lips. Your lips.
Sweet and pink.
Kind and loved. My eyes.
What did my tear-fogged eyes hear?
What did my heart shout?
And what of our hands?
They were so good together. But you left your tiny, tender fingers freeze in the loneliness of your pockets.
Your fingers. Your childish plum fingers.
Kisses on each of your fingers. My fingers.
Kisses on my palm!
And you left my lips without your fingers.
You left my large, clumsy paws without your warm hands.
You nose is red and salty streamlets are running from your eyes, but you are smiling.
And you are gone.
My heart is screaming so loudly that even you cannot hear it anymore.
And you won’t see.
You won’t see how hard my heart is pumping from its own scream – wail.
And there’ll be eyes, closed for a split second.
And clear bitter drops.
And hands will cover the face away from the terror of the door shut behind you.
And there’ll be a thud of knees on the floor. And the pain of the hit.
But there will be no sob, no moan.
The neighbors won’t hear no weeping, no voice…
No tender-tender voice.
I love you, my dear mother…