In another, not dying light

Finally, the words together
He spoken
Before like long time.
Emotions for me: so in between
Neither sadness, no melancholy
Almost funny, but just only almost.
Before like long time?
Before the loneliness
Or another togetherness?
In the emotions were used up or not
In that was tried to renew
Until also this seemed vain?
Finally, I have also found my words
Even if I can never describe him with them, is allowed or wants also.
Finally, I have found my other rhythm.
If I had sealed the text to a lament
And if it still sounded so touching...:
I would tear him from you from the hands, before you try to sing it.
Spoken words, only by her sound, the voice, the personality
Work urgently.
All the same what he says?
No, so better not, never.
Finally, I pull myself up to tell stories anew
To try whether what seems consistent.
French words?
To make heavier, therefore, in order it to him
To find something depressing
Because it sounds so different on in French
Almost affectionately, warily, although it even
Cruel words only are
Or seem to be -
If you read
Judgments never too rash
I cannot be forced
To think differently about you.