I looked through an old day pressed in itself like a bull's eye
inside autumn stood on the bed and caressed my right temple
I opened my heavy eyes
I stretched a late arm
then I caressed her hair like an unsettled river

”you haven``t been waiting for me” she whispered
and my thoughts were her scattered leaves
our souls came out througt the hoar-frost bull's eye
dancing white over misted
mountains tops

”make some coffee with no grief” I said
she stood up in her crimson dress and melancholy jumped into her arms like a spoiled baby
I take her unassuming
I lay her under the grizzle sheet
I let her boil all sorrow with coffee grounds
I drink quietly from the cup on which words
”the beloved” have erased ever since the leaves of the whole world fell down
I drink and my bitter sweet smile lays on the cup with the erased letters ”be”

autumn puts the kettle by the broken window
looks deep into my eyes shrouded in unwritten poems
and then whispers almost with a diabolical smile
”nevermind. sorrow is less heavy after a cup of coffee”