my secret Europe – secret
secret
my secret Europe
stretched out before me
like a second skin
painted and thin
I feel so good
in these Italian boots
like Lady Godiva
riding in the nude
I still have the matches
you brought from Rotterdam
you made me use them
when I was your matchstick man
secret
the Barcelona papers
and the shirt from Turin
lost in my french suitcase
somewhere in Berlin
you can see Belgian highways
far from outer space
they keep them lightened at night
and tidy through the days
my secret Europe