grandmother and i sit opposite one another
an armchair, an old sofa
our bellies are full of fruit from the market
raspberries and blueberries, one or two blackberries
just like me and grandfather used to
she speaks of grape tarts and ice cream
of the physics professor marrying her friend
the bike they all rode up the hill one at a time, sandwiches made from nothing
and dancing to old records
oh how little we need to be happy, don't you see?
the nights at the opera with grandfather
(just for her, just for love) she tells me all about them
still there, an armchair, an old sofa
we lay still, we watch a black and white film
i walk around, she traces my steps
the house exhales memories, i read them
take them, drink them, swallow them
i am these memories and she is those memories
and that is all we are, all that exists
oh my little dove, happiness is easy, you see?
make the most of it all, my little dove
and can i not comply?
i am a song and a portrait and a flower
in the mirror of her heavy eyes
as i walk pathways and whisper passions
and hear melodies and taste life
grandmother awaits the day, the night, a moment
on an armchair, an empty sofa
grandmother awaits.
