You know when you accuse me of doing stuff for everyone
except for the one that is you?
You know when you accuse me – this in your presence – of straying,
of not relating as I should?
You know when you accuse me of not looking
only at you?
You know when you accuse me
of not thinking only of you?
Is this really you who speaks – or is it some
And if jealousy it were, let it be clear: over all the years
we have survived this life together,
There has never been a decision I have freely made
without thinking precisely of you.
Out of fear of the reaction you’d almost inevitably have,
I have never felt the winds of liberty
Fall from your shawl: quite the contrary, my dear –
I have lived in a prison
Of inhuman making; and all this time my rhyme
has been smothered, full!
So you when you now accuse me of
being unable to live solo,
Just ask yourself this question: when ever
did I live at all?