Meeting


Downstairs they were having another vague party.
I don't know why.
Most of them were slowly getting drunk,
they looked like test dummies without a job,
they behaved somewhat fuzzy.

They smelled like fresh lukewarm meat
released too soon  by their sloppy mothers.
And nobody kept their face for themselves
All of them sounded more naked going up
than intended.

They went through rooms and hallways, dancing,
searching for their best form.
They were also groping  us in the dark.
Their creamy smiles tightening like the velvet
on masked knifes.

The both of us leaning over the railing
perilously linked together, studying the atmosphere
of candlelight, house music and stoners.
Sometimes we heard parents quickly dying
in rusty villages.

Who would I have been If you wouldn't have grabbed me
halfway down those swirling dusky stairs?
And would I be here today
If this hand didn't get attached 
to your hand?