I can no longer be your tender border

today I have to strike the first few wounds

 

let the world bleed into you. Tomorrow

you’ll be just itchy scabs and later perhaps

 

dead meat where time and again

I let you fall because you lacked the callouses.

 

But child do not forget our lullaby and how I

stroked your hair by night: too hard is also

fragile.

 

Translated by Willem Groenewegen