Minden csepp véremmel

Március nyolcadik napja

egy különös hagyomány dátuma.

Ezen a napon elvárás szerint,

női kezekre minden férfi csókot hint,

kalapját fejéről lekapja,

hajbókol, bokáit összecsapja,

s hangosan kíván boldog nőnapot,

esetleg átnyújt egy képeslapot,

majd sarkon fordul,

s elballag legott.

Ezért én is, hagyományok hű rabja,

ezennel kívánom: legyen szép napja!

minden hölgy ismerősömnek,

s ha már eleget köszöntek,

hadd mondjam el kérem,

miért is születik eme költeményem.

Mert ugyan rengeteg leányt ismerek,

egyet közülük mégis kiemelek,

ki szívemnek legkedvesebb,

előtte külön is, had tisztelegjek:

Rájöhettél mostanra, Kedvesem,

kiről beszélek, Te vagy, s restellem,

szavaim virtuális papírosra csak ily későn,

szinte a nap végén vetem, félőn,

vallomásom hozzád már el sem jut,

de el kell mondanom, hogy mégis tudd,

mindent megteszek, hogy boldognak lássalak,

mindig igyekszem, hogy meg ne bántsalak,

s ha az ígért célt nem is mindig érem el,

szeretlek minden csepp véremmel. 

Inspired by a novel I read somwhere some time

They are sitting in a diner. One picking the leftovers with a fork, the other gazing out the window. The place is silent, only an old coffee machine bubbles gently. The gazer notices a birds nest on a tree outside. One of the parents arrives and stands with wings spread over the hachlings to cover them from the burning Martian sun. The little ones flock to their mother's feet with joy.

 - Did you miss me?

Asks the gazer inspired by the birds.

 - No.

 - But... I missed you. And I thought you'd... You know. The things we said...

 - I didn't miss you at all.

 - Why?

 - When you left me there, and walked away without looking back, my life left with you. It disappeared. Like all the years never happened. I never felt so empty before. Like a finished bottle of milk, thrown onto a pile of trash.

 - That doesn't explain.

 - Yes it does.

 - No.

 - You see, I stood there for a couple of hours, and my legs must had gotten tired, because they took me home, straight to my bed. I didn't have a single thought in my mind. I was blank white. I think I laid there all night. At some point I figured that I had to make up a new life, so I started painting things on the whiteness. And I was really careful to leave you out. I was afraid of the pain.

 - So you just wrote me out of your life?

 - No. You took my life with you. You took everything. You were everything...

 - I didn't have a choice. I had to leave. You knew my reasons.

 - I did. And still I couldn't continue that life. I needed a new one.

 - So there's no possibility of getting your original life back then?

 - Did you bring it?

 - I don't know. I didn't even know it came with me. We might have parted since then.

 - Oh.

 - But you should feel something if it's here somewhere. Do you feel anything?

 - Well... I kinda feel dizzy. And it's like some white parts appeared on the painting. I don't know yet. I can't just throw this new me away like that.

 - You did that to the past one.

 - That time I was the victim. This life might get depressed if I pushed it away... No, I don't want to do that to it. It helped me a lot. I got attached to it. It was a long time you know.

 - What if it only wants the best for you? If it does, it might leave on it's own. Give it a try, please.

The one with the fork leaves the vegetables alone, and lays back in the chair. Now two pairs of eyes are watching the birds.