There is a longing in me
Which resides
In the receptive clay
A clay which you moulded
Knowingly, also unknowingly
There is a longing in me
Which decides
Upon the plasticity of the clay
A clay which you passed, then pressed
One time after another
There is a longing in me
Which provides
A worktable for the clay
A clay which you turned; turned
To rediscover the inside
