i am doing the same things i do every night
drinking fine coffee
eating exquisite bread
watching great comedy shows on the screen
i still hear the rain beat down nothing at all
the same rain, always the same...
i still see my nightdress in undulations over my flesh
like a waves of ink, how nero loves rose,
attracting glances from the clock and my books
the shutters and my chairs
they all want to paint me!
i smell the same smoke from the houses of strangers
hear the same cries from the baby opposite
my legs as they lie on the table
same bellow-lunged baby, always the same
this house is protective
it loves to be generous and fold its wide wings
around anyone who needs it
and god, it was me...
my fridge and my freezer
are empty but for milk
this is quite normal
it's always the same
my bathroom quite perfect
white towels, white foot mat
and hand cremes and lotions
and soap from the oceans
'brush up from the bottom
and down from the top'
that rings in my ears
and will do forever
it's all so familiar
i wonder quite when it might slip from my mind
some things one simply remembers forever...
this would stand as a great time in my life
i lie on my lilacs and violet bedding
and turn on the air-con
it's so hot in here
everything's quite normal
in fact, is it today
or next week or last monday?
i never know here
it is always the same
and from this moment.
nothing was the same