before / by Britta Badour

before we become friends
help yourself
any help helps
anything living must grow

before we become lovers
I keep the windows open when it rains
I have a secret handshake with the moon

before we become parents
no matter what happens
let's speak good of each other

before we become memories
gift me the yearning to grow elderly
to let those old rocking chairs take over us already
with nothing more to talk about but nothing to talk about
keep me warm
I've wanted nothing more
keep me warm