dinsdag 22 september 2009


I always promise things:
that I will finally begin,
that I will finish something else,
that I’ll stop smoking slowly,
and that I’ll, more or less, not drink.

But promises yield guilt
because I don’t say what I mean:
No, I will not start anything again
and won’t finish something else,
blow clouds of smoke in wine bottles,
and stop being promising.

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