This is what my mother knows

that it's dangerous to walk the night streets alone
for the cats that lurk in the shadows have flashing eyes

that it is not a white lie but a white burden to love
two men with only one heart

that if a nickle is turned facing upwards or downwards
it still is a good find for rainy cities

that you only live youth once but that once is enough
when you spend time, unwanted, in love

that strangers can have harmful red-candy
dangling dreams but that they can buy you medicine on your worst day

that your old socks can become good window-cleaners
old life deserves second chances

that a sigh sent into air comes back to your lungs
only in a sweeter song, a luminous shape

that three friends are better than two
when one of them moves or falls into their own self

that your utmost fear is what keeps you to your feet
like catching the last train out of the city

that she, my mother, refused to tell me this
but she knows I know by my eyes