Tuesday, August 1, 1989

As if everything could be made up (1989, Brussels)

I look at her sitting,
I know she came for me, only for me.
As if this moment could make it all up.

She sits crossing her legs, I waited for her for once.
Shy or uncomfortable, she looks down. 
She asks if she may explain herself. Why not?
As if these five minutes could make it all up.

 She looks up and observes me.
I look down, uncomfortable, even though I am innocent.
I am afraid to betray my emotions.
I want to tell her ... all the accumulated hate.
Maybe she wants to tell me how much she regrets,
how much she didn't want to do it but that she had to.

She talks about anything and nothing.
She surprises me. She's alive, she has lived during all this time.
She stops and murmurs to me that I've changed, she's glad to see me.
As if these words could make it all up...

I smile, I stare at her, to make her look away.
I ask her what she did during all this time.
She hastens to tell me that due to the circumstances, it was the only solution.
She doesn't anwer my question. I listen to her talking. She is lost.
Emotions have overcome her. I look away, towards the window.
As if this could make her feel better...

She tells me that she's married.
She doesn't say if she has children.
I don't try to ask. She asks me what I am doing, if I'm happy.
I answer that it is better without her. She looks at me. I feel pity.
As if that could make it all up.