Thursday, October 15, 2015

Liquid

We have a deal:
there is no more orientation,
no pattern, no name, no solid rock.
No need to fit
in some old time resignation,
no territory to keep us calm,
no home.

Since home was never a place,
home was an idea.
The oldest lie we are about to face
and reinvent ourselves.

There was never home, repeat:
there was never home.
At least not there, or anywhere.

We have a deal:
love needs no more authorisation,
no law, no judge, no door to lock.
No need to achieve
any old school conciliation,
no country to fight for,
no flag to hang above us or anything.

Since there was never a name,
never a name could really fulfill us
(all that we are,
you and me).

We are so many things,
small, and big, and useless
We are nothing to be called,
but queer.


And fluid and liquid and water.

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