You’re not sure where that thirst comes from

the courage to swallow. Sometimes you’d rather sleep


but closing your eyes is looking inside: a different

awakening, when light enters already while it is still


the middle of the night. Each cut is a step on a ladder

I say and I’m not sure if we should want to be sure


where that thirst comes from, if people are sculptures,

how hard we should hack to complete them


if we hadn’t rather be fluid, leaking on all sides,

be drinkable.

Translated by Willem Groenewegen