All day I imagine
how it could be me,
could be you, it is her
on that street, in that car,
in the chains, in the window.
All day I break down
the door. All day
I turn toward love.
It is not hard to find love,
but it is not easy
to be joyful in it.
We are so alone
together.
All day I break.
The door
is still not open
enough.