IN MEMORY OF JOOP ADMIRAAL, SONIC BOOM (ULTIMA VEZ), 2003 Poem by Peter Verhelst

Two bodies stand face to face,
speaking into each other's mouths for hours on end
until the words are dripping from their chins: despair, sleep, boredom,
willpower, love, dreams, desire, tenderness, submission.

Which of the two first says the word razor
while the other answers, head, eyebrows, lip, cheeks,
chest, chin, armpits, belly, pubes,
to be shaved? Ivory. Alabaster.

We leave the theatre, carrying a body each,
get in the car, drive home.

In the bedroom we lay them mouth to mouth
as if they're standing horizontally in bed.

From our two sides we press against their backs,
arms around waists, chins on shoulders, open-eyed,
climbing over those bodies,
kissing ourselves together in our sleep.