THE END (a poem in prose)
I didn’t realize you were coming straight at me. We bumped into each other without a sound, causing a simple explosion of question marks. We then went back on each other’s ways, because we were not meant to go to bed with so many unanswered questions.
But somehow, the initial collision caused some magnetic waves which found us easily, dragged us out of our barrows and drew us closer all over again, and so dangerously wonderful, that we instantly started running in opposite directions, not before we had scented each other’s small portion of skin behind the left ear and imprinted their perfumes forever on the cerebral cortex – wildflowers, silent and shy!
The truth is that after each short collision and immediate separation we grew smaller. Imagine a snow ball in reverse – the huge belly of the snow man turning into a small snow ball, then just some snow in the hollow of two hands, then thousands and thousands of selfish, lonely snowflakes. And then nothing! Like a white end.