Guesswork.
These strange sounds, that rushed out of my throat,
just, because someone visited me once.
Of, for example, you had just come,
shoed in loudly rumbling from outside:
I was already giving off too much air! Hyperventilierte!
Have a gap of maybe:
fifty centimeters towards you—— ventilated.
Like a xylophone, over which a gust of wind sweeps,
in its own abandoned garden.
Or like a cheap Spumante Prosecco rocket.
They are everywhere.
And you —— madness —– have you the first
Shoes off. And me, because I
convulsed, guess cool: breathe less,
preferably in a bag! (28.3.2020)