My Secret Europe

my secret Europe – secret

secret



my secret Europe

stretched out before me

like a second skin

painted and thin

I feel so good

in these Italian boots

like Lady Godiva

riding in the nude

I still have the matches

you brought from Rotterdam

you made me use them

when I was your matchstick man



secret



the Barcelona papers

and the shirt from Turin

lost in my french suitcase

somewhere in Berlin

you can see Belgian highways

far from outer space

they keep them lightened at night

and tidy through the days



my secret Europe