Lover in a Suitcase

You are the lover in a suitcase
in love with your lovely-lovely sweetcase.

You have heard 
there is a mandala
and there you go, inshala:
it was warmer up in your attic
and besides, there was no traffic.

The world keeps turning that way
madly loud and hastier each day.

There's no sinking in our trip,
we scratch landscapes very thin,
water-drawned quay,
wounded air,
beginning and end...
beginning and end.

You do as you can
as the lover in a suitcase;
in fact, what is a lover?
Your next stop-over.

Loneliness is a hill
you can climb and descend at will,
just turn your arms like a wheel
and be a flying mill...

There's no sinking in our trip,
we scratch landscapes very thin,
water-drawned quay,
wounded air,
beginning and end...
beginning and end.

You are the suitcase in a lover,
your guts are pulled and turned over,
he on wheels, 
and you...
share his skin.
Doing your best
is quite great;
but great is not enough yet,
and that sting... has a sharp edge.
Lover in a suitcase
in love with her lovely sweetcase.
When packing,
who of you two is exhausted?
Fitting things together hurts bad:
you pack your suitcase 
while you get undone.

You forget something in every bed,
you are the bare matrass's dress.

There's no sinking in our trip,
we scratch landscapes very thin,
water-drawned quay,
wounded air,
beginning and end...
beginning and end.

Hezurren azpian (Gaztelupeko Hotsak, 2019)