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He sighed when he read my poems
had to take his glasses off
pressed his fingers to his forhead
and his words became a cough

There were minutes of silence
before he came to speak
and that look he gave me
was rather striking unique

He told me he couldn´t stand Cohen
burt those records long time ago
´cause they shook his landscape
like snowflakes in a lanterns glow

And when I asked him why
he said it sliced him so deep
nibbeling and crunching
then a tender breath before going to sleep

He told me I had the same effect
with my darkness and my light
now he couldn´t surrender
this flickering insight

So I salute you mister Cohen
I wouldn´t be me without you
and we can peal our onions
and shatter a tear or two

Let me strech out my arms ´til it hurts
you just have to give me that space
so that I will be able
able to embrace, embrace.

LOVE! /morning dew, or shall we say mourning dew